Butterfly Wings: A Chelsea Story
by ohgodofwriting
Summary: This story is about exploring something for the most part unexplored. And discovering yourself, and sharing that with other people. Terry/Chelsea pairing, romance, and reader/writer interaction.
1. The End That Brought A Beginning

Author's Note:

Through writing various Max/Terry fanfics, and reading my best friend's (DesertedMirage) awesome fanfics, we started realizing how awesome Chelsea is, and she asked me to write a fic for Chelsea. So this is me exploring Chelsea's potential. I hope that this is interesting for you, believable, and opens up new doors for you in your creative potential.

Chelsea's wardrobe is inspired for me by this awesome site online called etsy . com. You can see my favorites (her ring is actually taken from my favorites) and the rest is inspired by the beautiful stuff there, and how that site has inspired my own fashion bent. So you can see my site and also my favorites by going to: elizabethrosemiller . etsy. com

I hope this fic encourages you to reach your own potential, to be creative and unafraid. I just had so much fun writing this, and really let myself out. Furthermore, life is too short and boring (if you don't) so let yourself out of your box and pursue your passions.

But because I love you, I want this story to be enjoyable for you. So, beyond what I've got now, I want it to be driven by your thoughts and ideas. So review with plot ideas, or what you think should happen, or what would be realistic to you, or what you think want to happen next. I am so excited to embark on this journey!

Eliza

P.S. Further chapters may be shorter than these first two, but I wanted to put out all that I'd thought of so far so that your ideas don't go to waste.

P.P.S. I also want you to make your own playlist for this story, so if you find any fitting songs, let me know! Thanks!

* * *

Chelsea combed her fingers through her stiff, backswept blonde hair.

"You are so extremely cool," Dana mentioned.

Chelsea stopped, startled that her best friend would jump from talking about her boyfriend problems (as usual) to giving a compliment. Her eyes narrowed as comprehension dawned. "Ooh no."

"Chelse, hear me out--"

"NO WAY DANA TAN!"

"But..."

"Are you out of your mind!?"

Dana stood, sighed, and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her denim mini skirt and took a few steps out onto the marshy outskirts of Gotham Lake. Her shoulders were hunched all moodily, and her long dark hair writhed in the air like a liquid thing. It was a beautiful, melancholy picture. Typically how Dana got her way.

"Ugh, Danaaa..." Chelsea ground the heels of her chucks into the sand.

Dana turned back around to face her friend. "It was YOUR idea."

"NO IT WAS NOT!" Chelsea promptly freaked-out back. She was a little high-strung with her dad, sure, but never with Dana. She was usually the level-headed one. But when said best friend tries to set you up with her BOYFRIEND so that she can get rid of him, it could stroke even trademark-cool Chelsea's fur the wrong way.

Dana set her stance to defend. "Yes it was. Three weeks ago. I told you I couldn't do it, I couldn't break up with him, and you said that maybe I didn't have to. That I could set him up with another girl and that would do the job for me."

Chelsea stood, feeling more calm now that she could track what was going on. "Dana. I did not mean that you should set him up with ME."

"But who else would he go out with? Who would go out with_ him_?"

"I didn't even know that you really wanted to break up with him all that much." Chelsea wondered, brushing off the seat or her orange burmudas.

"Me either. But...being single wouldn't be that much different than going out with Terry McGinnis."

Chelsea watched her friend with compassion, though she didn't seem that torn up. ...Over it, maybe?

"I thought it was a really good idea."

"Well, it wasn't." Chelsea sauntered over to one of her dad's boats and flopped inside. It was an old green and white rowboat that had probably never been on the water. Dana and her had sat in it all through high school, reading magazines and talking about boys. Only Chelsea's boys ever changed.

Dana followed, knowing she was breaking through. "C'mon. You want to help me, don't you?" Finding another point to bolster her case, she gave a little jump and pointed at her friend. "YOU'RE the one who has been telling me for, um, years, to break up with the guy!!!"

Chelsea looked up at Dana, sad. "This is not something you ask of a best friend. Like, ever."

"Oh c'mon, he's not_ gross_."

"Exactly...er...Dana...that's kind of why I don't think I should be going out with him...I mean, er...go out with him, ONCE. I meant."

"Why not?" Dana looked puzzled.

"Because! Um, what would people say? If they find out I went on a date with your boyfriend! They wouldn't know WHY I did it..."

"I know, Chelsea. I know it's a lot to ask." Dana slumped into the boat and sat on the bench across from Chelsea. "But I have to ask you."

"Why can't you break up with him again?" Chelsea squinted at her friend, knowing she'd heard it a million times, but hoping for a change.

"Because...well...Terry is hecka hot."

"And you wouldn't be jealous BECAUSE...?"

"Oh come on. I've given up. Terry is like on of those trophy hotties...you can look but you can't really...I don't know..."

"_Be _with them?" Chelsea finished. She was an expert on Dana's life.

"Yeah, that's it. See? You understand. You_ know_ why you have to do this."

"ARG! Chelsea slammed her forehead into her palms. "Well how do we even get him to do it?"

"Oh I know Chelsea Cunningham has her ways."

"Thanks, Dane, that's really flattering," Chelsea grumbled.

"As is the nickname '_Dane_.'"

"Well you had better know how slagging much this is gonna' cost me because--"

"Oh, I know. C'mon, let's go buy some hair dye. I'll do your hair for you - no charge."

"That does not even begin to cut it, but...alright."

Two days later, Chelsea was strolling down the sidewalks of her subdivision in a black and white checkered mini dress, in high-top combat boots. The boots were a little warm for the summer day, but they just made the outfit look so shway, she couldn't resist. She reached up to touch the blue ends of her hair affectionately as she licked at snazzleberry flavored ice cream. An old-school favorite. Summer was great, but...there was only so much she could do to stay out of the house and away from her dad. It was pretty much either shop or hang out with Dana. It was senior year next year, and she was tired of the guys in her class and couldn't date upperclassmen anymore as they had all graduated. Boring life, basically.

Her cell began to ring from a pocket on the hip of her dress. Ooh, Dana! Maybe she wanted to go out?

"Chelsea. Hey, so, uh, have you asked Terry out yet?" She asked in one breath.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance. "You mean, have I asked your _boyfriend_ out yet?"

"Chelse! You promised!"

"Fine, fine, fiiiine. I'll call him,_ once_, and if he says yes, then so be it, and if not...well I did what I could do."

"Okay! Call him!"

"You so owe me, like, forever."

"Wait, no, what if he says no?"

"....Um, exactly my point."

"No! You have to go do it in person! He can't say no, Chelse."

"Danaaaaaa, please, no..."

"Chelsea, have I ever asked you for anything?"

"Lipgloss?"

"Wouldn't I do it for you?" Dana pleaded.

Chelsea stopped walking and let out a long sigh. "Yes, you would. I'll go to his house, call you when I get back."

An hour later, Chelsea pulled up to the apartment building where the McGinnis family lived in her father's sports car. It was a dark blue Viper, all enclosed and low to the ground, with a black windshield that bent over halfway across the roof. She sat inside nervously for a moment, not knowing what she would say when she got to the door. "Oh god oh god," she mumbled.

Once she got out, her face was all sunny smiles and confidence. She bounded up to the door in her usual school garb of sneakers, a stretch mini skirt, and a tight sleeveless cropped top. Very cheerleader. A bit of a departure from her summer wear.

She rapped on the door. Mrs. McGinnis answered.

Terry's mom looked momentarily startled but smiled graciously as she said "Hello, Chelsea! It's good to see you!"

"Hi, Mrs. McGinnis. I came to...er...see Terry. Is he around?"

"Yes he is, let me call for him, TERRRRRRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYY?" He came around the corner in a sweatsuit eating a bowl of cereal, with bedhead and groggy eyes.

"Mom! You didn't have to yell."

"Alright, sweetie." Mrs. McGinnis gave Chelsea another smile before she walked off to leave them alone.

Terry shuffled to the door and looked at Chelsea with a puzzled expression. "Hey..."

"Hey, Terry! Been a while since I've seen you, I think I've only seen you, like once, since school got out..." "Yeah," Terry replied with a huge yawn.

"So how is your summer going?" Chelsea fumbled, anxious on the inside, though she hid it with hyper excitement.

"Um, good..." Then something changed. Terry became alert. The sleepiness vanished from his countenance. The cereal bowl almost slipped from his fingers. His mouth hung open, and he stared past Chelsea.

Chelsea watched him with wide, confused eyes.

"Oh my god, is that the Viper Slash G89?"

"Er...yes. It's my dad's."

Terry pushed past her gently and walked reverently up the car in his bare feet. Cereal bowl in one hand, he ran his other hand across the seamless windshield. "Wow..." he breathed.

"Of course!" Chelsea murmured to herself, an idea dawning.

"This is one of the best lookin' cars out right now," Terry muttered, meaning to let Chelsea know, but not getting his voice quite loud enough. Chelsea appeared by his elbow.

"Want to take it for a spin?"

"YES!" Terry fairly shouted. He ran back inside to dump his cereal bowl off and tell his mom he was going out.

Chelsea sent off a text to Dana as she got into the passenger seat of her dad's car.

Dana responded quickly. "What if he wrecks the car?"

Chelsea had a brief moment of panic as Terry slid into the driver's seat.

"Okay," Terry said, hysterical with joy. He expertly bolted in, glanced over to check that Chelsea was, and then threw it into gear. "A manual shift and everything! These are so rare now!!!" He cried.

Chelsea giggled, enjoying the feeling of being plastered back into her seat by the speed. Even she hadn't gotten it going this fast. As they drove, her worry began to fade as she noticed the skill with which Terry operated the vehicle. He was certainly no stranger to high-powered vehicles. Going at lightening speed, he also demonstrated his ability to stop on a dime as he slammed on the break, switched gears, and ripped the wheel to the side, bringing it to stop, sideways, exactly four feet away from a squirrel scampering across the road.

"You saved Pipsqueak!" Chelsea laughed.

Terry looked serious. "No one should take these things to their full speed if they don't know how to stop. Especially in suburban areas."

Chelsea raised an eyebrow at his corny, but perfectly sincere, speech. "...You sound like a cop or something."

Terry shrugged and zigzagged onto another street dangerously, as if to make up for the slip of his carefree teenage facade. He was definitely an intriguing guy...Chelsea could see why Dana had such a hard time breaking up with him. He was powerful, dynamic, handsome, and yet so GOOD. Chelsea had never felt the crackling in her ears around him before, because she had never been with him without Dana.

Voice almost shaking, she decided it was time. "Would you like to go -- er, hang out tonight? You could drive the car some more!"

Slowing the car considerably, Terry glanced over at her, wary. "Oh, Chelsea, probably not."

"Oh? Okay," Chelsea muttered, looking down.

"Well I guess I'll let you go," Terry said, cheerfully, and ripped the car back to his place. "Thanks for the spin, Chelse! It was nice to see you!" He said and then ran back into the house, without waiting for her to speak.

"Terry McGinnis turned down MY best friend!?!?" Dana shrieked over the phone as Chelse was driving back.

"Um, Dana, it's understandable."

"Who says no to Chelsea Cunningham!?!? What is his problem?"

"Dana, he's dating you. Maybe he's a decent guy."

"What? You're saying this now? You_ never_ used to say that."

"Well...maybe I didn't know him, before."

"Woah woah woah, are you starting to LIKE him?" Dana shrieked in glee.

"No! What kind of a best friend do you think I am? No!"

"Well you can't give up now. Nothing has happened."

"Dana...I think I've had enough of this. And besides, I really think you need to learn to break up with the guy. And - and, maybe, you don't want to break up with him. I mean...maybe he's not as bad as I've always said."

"What? Chelsea. I've made up my mind. I want to break up with him."

"Okay. Just...whatever. I need to go. I'll catch you later, girl."

Chelsea wandered into the huge spare bedroom, the one her father never bothered to go into, and stared at her handiwork. This was the one other thing she did with her free time in the summer. The thing she didn't even tell Dana. And certainly not her dad. A sewing machine sat on the oak writing table, facing out over the large window, giving a beautiful view of the estate and lighting the room in the perfect light. Large blackboards held sketches and figures, and a computer sat on the bed with a screensaver that scrolled through her creations. Huge color print-outs of her masterpieces hung from the ceiling. And there were racks everywhere, rack upon racks of clothes, in every size, shape, and color. A plum silk dress, the skirt of which was made of strips of different colors, composing a rainbow. That one was _great_ for spinning. A pearly gray sweater that glimmered like raindrops when it moved, a mirrored mini dress with a matching headpiece. She walked over to her sewing machine and brushed her fingers over the work-in-progress. Tumbles of blue fabric in the _perfect_ shade of blue. An image flashed in her mind of her design for it. An amazing ballgown that trailed on the ground, the front laced up with black cord, long sleeves slit from the shoulders... She would never have anywhere to wear it. Not that she would have worn it anyway. She didn't wear anything she designed, because then Dana would want to go shopping at the store she "bought" it from, and her secret would come out...

Not even her favorite orange shirt. She wouldn't even wear that one. The long-sleeved, paper-thin soft cotton creation with the screenpinting of black diamonds all over it, and the thumb holsters...it was so shway. But no. She didn't want anyone to know.

Stuffing her feet into her (own creation) white knit slippers with stitched purple X's on them, she slumped down at the machine and lost herself in her own world.

Wearing a grey stretch wrap dress, sea-green emerald sheer tights, high brown leather boots, and an orange bow headband, Chelsea was leafing through magazines at the library. She had finished the blue dress earlier that day, and wanted to spend the day wallowing in inspiration. "I need to make something GREEN," she thought in delight. Mmm, perhaps a tattered green scarf. She stood with her stack of magazines and headed to push them back onto a shelf. She began to walk out of the recesses of the library, and past all the computers. Real magazines were less and less common in libraries, but Chelsea felt so much more inspired when she was holding a real glossy page in her hand. The colors were much more vibrant that way. As she passed a computer, she noticed an extremely attractive man leaning over a computer, tapping away intensely...Terry! Oh, that was embarrassing.

She could have kept walking and he would never see her, but...she just had to know.

"Terry! Um...what are you doing at a library?"

Terry turned around, the intense look slowly fading from his face. "I'm...wait...why are you dressed like that?"

"Like WHAT?" Chelsea shot back defensively. A couple of people started looking at them.

Terry raised his hands up in surrender. "Nothing, nothing, never mind."

"Alright then," Chelsea said haughtily and moved to brush past him. Terry gently grabbed her elbow.

"Hey - I'm sorry, I didn't mean it...in a bad way..."

"Yeah, it's no problem, Terry," Chelsea replied, reaching up to massage her forehead with one hand.

Terry's hand dropped from her elbow. "I'm sorry about earlier," he murmured, so as not to disturb others in the library. "You took me...a little...off-guard."

"Yeah well, I didn't mean like a date..."

"Yeah I'm sorry...I just..."

"I know, took you a little off-guard."

Terry smiled at her.

"Sorry I bothered you, I just...well, you took ME a little off-guard...being in a _library_," Chelsea giggled behind her hand.

"Yeah, well," Terry shrugged. "Maybe I'm a closet nerd."

Chelsea giggled again. "Maybe I'm a closet...oh, I don't know...designer," she said, beginning to laugh hysterically.

"A what?" Terry said, not catching the joke.

"Nothing," Chelsea mumbled, squirming under the look of a stern librarian. God, why were librarians so devoted to silence?

"Why is she so pissed off?" Terry noted, trying to alleviate her discomfort. They both laughed quietly together.

"Well, I gotta' go," Terry said dolefully.

"Oh, right, yeah, me too."

"Why? Where are you going?" Terry asked politely.

Chelsea stiffened. "Um, you know...to go...hang out." No way was she telling him 'the fabric store.' "You?" She asked quickly, to get Terry off the subject. Man, she got the feeling that he was really an investigator.

"Oh, to meet Dana. She called me and asked to meet," he replied openly.

"Oh! Well..."

"Wish me luck," Terry joked.

"Good luck!" Chelsea obliged.

"Well, I'll just walk out with you then..." Terry offered, and they began awkwardly to walk toward the exit.

"Would you happen to know what Dana wants to talk to me about?" Terry asked after they left. The fun atmosphere seemed to melt out of the air. Chelsea cleared her throat and examined her zebra-print nails that Dana had painted a week ago. They were chipping really badly. She was about to respond when Terry interrupted.

"Hey, I like your hair! I hadn't noticed. Blue, that's shway."

"Um, thanks, well, Dana would probably --"

"And your ring! That's so cool! Where did you get that?"

Chelsea coughed and held her hands behind her back, hiding her yellow felt butterfly ring. "Um...I saw it...online." No need to mention that she had made it herself from something she _saw_ online. And it had not been easy to make. But she loved a challenge. She had to stiffen the felt with all kinds of glue to get the 2-inch-wingspan to stay slightly folded upright...

"Wait don't hide it, I've never seen anything like that," Terry made a grab for her hand, but Chelsea danced out of the way.

"Well, I like your...tracksuit..." Chelsea tried.

Terry laughed. "Okay, maybe I'm not very...fashion...whatever. Maybe you could help me with that?"

"Yeah, maybe," Chelsea said a little high-pitched as she hopped into the car.

"Maybe I could drive the car again!" Terry yelled through her closed door.

"Dream on Terry McGinnis!" She yelled back with a smile as she peeled out of the lot.

Chelsea tried to hide the fantastic green fabric in the back seat. It was this gorgeous shaded forest color, out of the perfect, light-weight, tough scarf material...and she could not get it to stay in the bag! Change of plans, hanging out with Dana. Dana jumped into the car and Chelsea quickly sat upright, trying not to glance into the backseat to make sure it could not be seen.

"I DID IT, CHELSEA! I BROKE UP WITH HIM."

"Oh...you did?" She lifted her hand to her forehead and glanced behind her fingers into the backseat, trying to see if the fabric was showing.

"Yeah, just now. I met him at a coffee shop and I DID IT."

Chelsea forced herself to switch gears mentally. "Okay, so, how did you do it?"

"Well, um, I told him that I knew that you had asked him out..."

"Oh my gosh." Chelsea slid down lower in her seat, feeling embarrassed that she had talked to him only an hour before he had heard this from Dana.

"And I told him that I didn't mind.'

"You did not!"

"And then he said that he didn't mind either."

"WHAT!?!"

"See, you like him!"

"I do not!"

"Well, he didn't say that."

"...He didn't?"

"No I just wanted to see your reaction."

"Oh. Well then...what did he say?"

"Well we talked about our relationship, and we said, 'let's still be friends,' and we hugged, and laughed, and...it was great...and I feel so free!"

"You do?"

"Yes! I should have listened to you MONTHS ago!"

"Oh. Well, I'm really glad you feel good, Dana. I'm glad."

"Yeah, you said that."

"Okay, well...should we just sit in front of your house, or should I drive somewhere...?"

"Let's call Max!"

"MAX?" Chelsea choked.

"Yes of course _Max_."

"Dana, Max is Terry's, like, best friend..."

"Yeah, but she's also cool and will so totally be on my side. And honestly, Ter wasn't torn up or anything."

"Well, okay..."

"But even so, you call."

Chelsea glared at Dana. "No."

"Okay! Geesh." Dana whipped out her cell and spoke Max's name into it. A moment later, it was ringing.

"Hey Max, what'sup girl? I was just calling to say...I broke up with Terry. Yeah, for good. So, you hadn't heard?"

Chelsea watched Dana nervously out of the corner of her eye, feeling guilty.

"Well, I was wondering, d'you want to, ya' know...go clubbing? Okay, sweet! Meet you in twenty!"

"Clubbing?" Chelsea asked skeptically.

Dana stared back. "When have you ever said no to clubbing?"

"It's not that, it's just that...maybe it wouldn't be too sensitive to go try to pick up guys in front of your...um...ex's best friend...?"

"Okay, where is my best friend and what have you done with her?"

Chelsea began driving slowly and said nothing.

"C'mon, Chelse. Max is fine with it."

"_Oo...kay_."


	2. A Date Is Set

After the girls ate a dinner of microwave lasagna, Max brought up the dilemma of clothes. She was looking cool and casual in narrow black jeans and a white tank, her pink cropped hair smoothed down to her head. Chelsea couldn't help thinking that she would look amazing in the mirrored dress with little glints of mirror peaking out from her hair. But she said nothing.

Dana sighed. "I am so _sick_ of wearing black."

"I know," Max laughed. "And it's not every day that you get to go celebrate your independence. How many numbers have you had to turn down when the three of us went out over the past two years?"

Dana blushed.

"A lot," Chelsea added, unable to keep from supporting her best friend.

"Well, let's go raid your closet," Max said, and lead the party up the stairs.

At Max's suggestion, Chelsea kept on the same outfit. Dana wore a purple dress that Chelsea accessorized with a black scarf and heels, and she gave Max a sequined tunic to wear over her jeans. They all had a great time at the club, and spent most of the night dancing together, the three of them. Though Dana did go off a _couple_ times... One time when she wandered off, Chelsea tried to broach the subject.

"So, Terry hadn't called to tell you?"

"Naw, he's a guy. He doesn't call to tell me everything," she laughed.

"Have you talked to him at all?" Chelsea asked, trying to act uninterested.

"Yeah I gave him a call after Dana called me," she shrugged as she did a move.

"...How do you think he is taking it?"

"Oh he's fine. I mean, he really wants Dana to be happy, and she's fine, so...so is he."

Chelsea looked at her pretty friend for a moment, and had to remind herself to keep dancing as she sputtered out nervously, "So, do you think that something might happen, you know, between you and Terry, now?"

Max looked up in surprise. "What? Haha!"

"Yeah, maybe it's too fast.."

"No way, girl. There is nothing between me and Terry. He's like my brother...like, I couldn't imagine being less attracted to someone."

"Oh," Chelsea replied awkwardly as Dana skittered up.

Max gave Chelsea a long, intelligent look, and then noticed Dana.

"So how many numbers have you gotten tonight?" She teased her as the three walked back to their car that night.

"Um...about five."

When both the girls laughed, Dana defended herself realistically, "Well, only three of them were attractive!"

Chelsea dropped Dana off first and then headed back to her place so Max could get her car.

"Um, Chelse...Terry mentioned that Dana said her reason for breaking up was that you asked him out."

Chelsea cursed Terry silently in her head. "Well...it was actually...Dana's idea."

"I thought so," Max said perceptively.

Chelsea looked over at Max and smiled. "I felt pretty dumb doing it."

"Yeah, that's an awkward situation to be in," Max agreed.

"Really awkward..."

"Ugh, imagine asking Terry out," Max made a face and stuck out her tongue. "I wouldn't have done that, not even for Dana."

Chelsea laughed.

Max looked over at Chelsea, too intelligent for comfort again. "Sooo...do you think something might happen between you and Ter, now?"

"No!" Chelsea exclaimed. "I can't date my best friend's ex..."

"I don't think she would mind," Max laughed, managing to say it in a not pushy or suggestive way.

Chelsea shrugged and pulled into her driveway, next to Max's car.

"Can I tell you something, Chelse?" Max ventured, not getting out.

Chelsea looked at her warily.

"I think Terry would be open to the idea. I mean, he seemed kind of intrigued by you..."

"More like, intrigued by my dad's car," Chelsea tried to tease.

"He didn't mention it," Max said truthfully.

Chelsea fidgeted. "Isn't it a little soon? A two year relationship..."

"Yeah," Max agreed. "Don't do anything that you're uncomfortable with. But let's get real. We both know that there wasn't a lot of...depth...between Dana and Ter. It wasn't even very physical. Terry felt guilty for even _kissing_ her, because he could hardly be there for her..."

Chelsea sighed. "Then why did he stay with her?"

Max shrugged. "Terry's so busy...he's just trying to keep his life together, you know? He doesn't want to rock the boat. Afraid to hurt her, afraid to reach for something new, not thinking he deserves anything. And frankly quite delusional. He kept thinking he could change things..."

"Poor guy," Chelsea realized, suddenly.

"Yeah. And there is so much...depth...to him. Depth he couldn't share with Dana, because he felt she wasn't interested."

"What? She was totally interested!" Chelsea startled, staring at Max defensively. "She was always telling me how he was hiding something but would never open up..."

Max didn't realize that she was walking on dangerous ground. "Yeah but I mean, you wouldn't trust Dana with your most...vulnerable self...I mean...she's not exactly a _vault_..."

"Hey! She's my best friend!"

"Yeah, I know. She's a good friend of mine, too. I love Dana. She's shway. It's just, can't we be honest?"

"Honest about what?!"

Max looked apologetic, but unafraid. "Oh C'mon, Chelse. She was out getting numbers the second she got rid of him."

"Yeah? So what? And you were ENCOURAGING her!"

"Of course I was! There is nothing wrong with that. Obviously I'm more loyal to my girl friends than my guy friends."

"AND you are trying to suggest that Terry is interested in me the second Dana's out of the picture. It doesn't sound like he was too invested in their relationship, either."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Max said, quietly. "I just thought we could talk about this cooly."

"Sorry, Max, it's just...I don't know...maybe I'm taking this harder than Dana is."

_"Or maybe you are thinking about Terry and don't know what to do about it?"_ Max thought to herself, but she was too smart to say that. "Yeah, totally, girl, I understand. You've sort of been...in this relationship for two years, too. We all have."

"Maybe more than Dana was?" Chelsea offered with a weak smile.

"Yeah, maybe." Max laughed. "So can I give you this shirt back?"

"Don't worry about it now...just...whenever. See ya', girl, had fun."

"Alright, bye! Thanks!"

A few days later, Chelsea was sitting in her sewing room, finally working on the scarf. The green fabric was puddled in her lap as she sat on the four-postered bed. She was making it really wide so that it would sit around the neck like a cowl, and she was ripping along the sides to make heavy tasseling, braiding some of the strands, knotting others, and leaving still others dangling free. It was going to be beautiful. She might even wear it. She could tell Dana they had sold out...

But her mind wasn't really on the project. Max's words kept running through her mind, she was ruminating on them, feeling angry. _"Terry felt guilty for even KISSING her, because he could hardly be there for her...Terry's so busy...You wouldn't trust Dana with your most...vulnerable self..."_

She tried to convince herself that the last bit wasn't true, that it was all Terry's fault, but all she had to do was look down at what was in her hands to know that it WAS true. That while Dana was a great girl, she wasn't the most...intensely interested or searching. She was kind of fine with the surface level of everything. And maybe Chelsea had let herself fit in too much with that.

Her phone rumbled from somewhere in the puddle of fabric. She scrabbled around in it and retrieved it. "Hellooo...?" She sing-songed, hopping up to go for the glue and glitter, getting an idea.

"Hey Chelsea," came a familiar, deep voice.

Chelsea stopped and stared into space.

"It's Terry." He said rather unnecessarily.

"Oh. Hi." She sunk back onto the bed, scarf across her knees.

"Er...sorry you haven't heard from me in a couple days...I've been busy..."

What the hell? He sounded like they were dating and he was giving excuses!

"Why would I need to hear from you?" Chelsea said, surprised and a little annoyed.

Terry coughed. "Well, so, I was wondering if the offer...to you know...hang out...was still...er..."

"No, I don't think so," Chelsea forced the words from her mouth, wincing even as they came out.

"I didn't mean like a date." Terry replied, swiftly.

"Oh."

"So...do you want to hang out?"

"Well...when?"

"Er - what are you doing right now?"

"Now?" Chelsea panicked.

"Yeah, I'm kinda'...by your house."

"Oh. I'm not home."

"Oh really? Where are you?"

"Uhm...At...Er...Terra...you know, that coffee shop? Drinking an, um, apple latte."

"Oh really?" She could hear the smile in his voice. "But your car is in the driveway."

"Would you stop stalking my dad's car!?!?" She laughed.

"I'm not!" He laughed back.

"Sure seems like it," she smiled and reached up to touch her hair.

"So did you walk?"

"Walk where?"

"Terra," he sniggered.

"No...I biked."

"In your cheerleading uniform?" He sounded incredulous.

"I wear more than that!"

"Yeah, apparently. Like at the library."

Chelsea blushed and snuck over the the window that faced the front, trying to see Terry by the car, but she couldn't see him.

"So why were you dressed differently?"

Chelsea rolled her eyes, seeing that Terry was happy enough to keep her on the phone line.

"Well I think I had better go."

"Yeah, you must be disturbing people in the library," Terry sniggered.

"Yeah, the pissed lady is glaring at me again," Chelsea whispered obligingly.

"Alright I'll let you go."

"Okay! Talk to you later."

"Bye."

"Bye."

She snapped the phone shut and sat there a moment. Then she shook her head firmly and slung the green scarf over her shoulder and began digging for supplies.

A few minutes later, she heard a knock on the door, and she froze. She hadn't thought her dad was back yet. And he never knocked on this door. "Dad! Go away!" She shouted. But the door creaked open, and Terry McGinnis' head popped in. She froze in shock.

"Hey Chelse - woah, what is this?" He asked, letting himself in.

"Terry McGinnis! Get out!"

But Terry was staring wide-eyed around the room, not listening. "This is...intense..." he muttered.

"This is a SECRET!" Chelsea yelled, stomping one foot. That seemed to get his attention.

"Is this why you told me you were at the library?" He said, looking at her.

Chelsea wanted to argue and say that, no, it was because she didn't want to see him, but he was looking at her with so much understanding in his eyes that she couldn't say that. She did want him to understand her secret.

"How did you find this room?" She broke off. "Have you ever even been in my house?"

"A couple times, for parties."

"Well, how the hell did you FIND me?"

"I'm pretty good at finding my way around," he said, walking over to her, interesting in what she was doing. No need to tell her that he used a little bit of Bat technology to track the only noise in the house to this room. He took the scarf from her hands.

"Careful! It's...wet..." she warned. She had just dragged the glue-dipped edge in multi-colored glitter.

"Wow," he said, and let her take it back.

She watched in confusion as he walked around the spare room. How had this happened? How had Terry McGinnis broken in on her most private space in the world and started wandering around, touching things, and commenting, uninvited... She was furious, confused, and oddly...relieved. It felt natural.

Terry stared at the blown-up pictures of her computer simulated designs. "So...you did all this?"

Chelsea shrugged when he looked at her, and went to hang up the scarf on a clothesline with pins for it to dry.

Terry stopped in front of a golden ballerina dress with a tutu and slippers. He chuckled, thinking that it looked a bit like the Batsuit with it being on a mannequin like that. Not something that Bruce would find funny.

"I didn't invite you here, you know," Chelsea challenged, turning to him with her arms crossed over her chest.

"This is all...really shway, Chelsea," Terry replied, looking at her softly.

Chelsea felt self-conscience in her blue one-shouldered shirt with a cotton ruffle along the sloped neckline and below the elasticized waist (own design) over white jeans. She fiddled with the ruffle.

"Why have you been hiding this?" He asked, encouragingly.

She shrugged. "It's just...easier...this way."

"I doubt it," Terry chuckled.

"So...what are you doing here, Terry?" Chelsea refocused on him, remembering his impertinence for inviting himself in.

"I dunno...I got...curious," Terry mumbled back, thumbing through clothes on the rack.

Chelsea stuffed her hands onto her hips and sputtered in frustration.

"Like this, how can you not be wearing this!?" He held aloft the screen printed orange shirt.

Chelsea stomped over and snatched it from him. "Teeerrry!"

Terry looked at her, unafraid and searching. Smooth black hair swished across his pale brow. Pointed nose was jutting out cleanly, firmly set lips were...oh dear, she was getting lost. She laughed and looked away. Terry flopped onto the bed and jiggled his finger on the mousepad of her computer.

"Oh, get off it, Chelse," he teased her as he glanced up at her indignant expression. "C'mon, come show me this stuff."

Chelsea wandered over hesitantly and sat stiffly beside him on the bed. "Alright well, you have to start here..."

A couple hours later, Chelsea had walked Terry back outside onto her driveway. He was shooting some hoops with one of her dad's autographed basketballs.

"My head is swimming from all that stuff," Terry noted, swishing a basket.

Chelsea laughed awkwardly and leaned against the post, watching Terry live in a more natural environment for him. He was dressed nicely today in dark jeans and a dark zip-up jacket.

"So," he said, coming to stand before her, ball between his hands, "Can I take you out on that date?"

"Wha-wha...?" Chelsea blinked at him, taken off guard.

"You know, take you out...to lunch, tomorrow. Someplace nice. I want to see you wear some of that stuff you design."

"Oh? Is that the only reason you are taking me out, Terry McGinnis?" She snatched the ball from him and started running, making a pathetic attempt at dribbling. She shrieked when he got behind her and tried to swipe the ball.

"All that cheerleading and you're no good at sports?" Terry said, laughing too hard to succeed.

Chelsea turned, travelled with the ball a few steps, and jumped to get it in, looking all intense, and missed.

Terry grabbed it as it flew off the backboard.

"When are you picking me up?" Chelsea yelled as she headed for the house.

"Wha.." Terry asked, confused.

"I said, 'when-are-you-picking-me-up'!?"

"Um, Twelve!"

"Okay!" Chelsea yelled and then let the front door close behind her.


	3. Getting To Know Each Other

Hello again, everyone! Thanks for being so patient for this update. This is their first date, so hopefully, it was worth the wait.

I added a picture of how I view Chelsea to my profile. It is my avatar right now. I think Alexis Grace has a great "Chelsea" look. (Props to DesertedMirage for spotting her on American Idol, hehe.) During one performance, she wore her short blonde hair stiffly backswept, which is how Chelsea wears her hair in my story. Also, there are hints of pink in Alexis' hair, so switch that to blue in your mind's eye for Chelsea's hair.

I wrote this scene while listening to "Teardrops On My Guitar" by Taylor Swift, so it would be a great way to get the feel while reading this chapter...especially the bit about them at the restaurant.

Dana is going to start seriously dating a guy in a bit, and so will Max. I am taking suggestions for what the guys are like that they are dating. I am thinking for Dana a guy that pays her WAY too much attention, like, almost embarrassing (but she will like it). But what should he look like? And what should Max's man be like?

Thanks, guys!!!

* * *

When Chelsea had called Dana up after being asked out by Terry, Dana had been ecstatic. She was practically planning their wedding. Thankfully, Dana was fine with switching the subject to her own past and upcoming dates with the "three attractive guys from the club"...and a couple others that she had met since that night. Dana was making up for lost time, apparently. She was letting them all take her out for dinner,

deciding what she wanted in a man and just having fun. And, Chelsea suspected, enjoying getting some attention, finally.

"Well, what are you going to wear??" Dana quizzed frantically, bringing the conversation back full-circle.

"Oh, I don't know..." Chelsea hedged, not wanting to let her know that she had far more clothing options than Dana knew about.

"Well you've GOT to come over so that we can get you ready --"

"No, that's okay, I think I'll do this one by myself," Chelsea said quickly.

"Well - okay." Dana replied, unfazed and launching back into a comparison of bachelor #1 and bachelor #2's hottness.

In the end, Chelsea decided on a white capped sleeve summer dress with a short fluffy skirt (not her own design) over white leggings and white ballerina flats. She wore oversized yellow shades, and wrapped her new green scarf loosely around her neck. She stood in front of her bedroom mirror a few minutes before twelve, admiring the thick, soft circle the fabric made across her shoulders, the beautiful, eclectic tasseling, and the subtle glittery edges.

The doorbell rang. Well, he was doing it properly, this time. She had half expected him to barge in on her. Chelsea bounded down the stairs, quite excited.

"Hi, Terry," she greeted happily. He stood there in blue jeans and a brilliant blue shirt, setting off his blue eyes and dark hair nicely.

"Hey, Chelsea. Are you ready?"

"Yep!"

"Okay, well, if you don't mind riding in a piece of junk, we'll take my car this time," he offered.

Chelsea giggled. "Sure."

He took her to a casual, upscale sandwich bar that overlooked Gotham Lake. Chelsea found herself laughing and talking in an unguarded way that she hadn't quite meant to. There was a connection there, a connection that she hadn't felt with any guy before...perhaps not even with any girl. Not even with her best friend, Dana. Terry saw everything in her, but he was so safe. So respectful of her soul, such a warm place for her to fall into... She saw none of the hardness, the coldness, the aloofness that she had always felt from her father. He felt like a best friend, he felt like the prince from a Disney movie, he felt like a hero, he felt like a boy she had grown up with... And as she sat across from him, one log crossed over the other, raised foot wiggling, she tried to grab what was happening. She tried to stop to think, but all she could do was smile warmly at him out of her eyes and fight the blush out of her cheeks, embarrassed by the perfection of the moment.

Terry felt none of her embarrassment, but he did feel a new shyness in his breath that he hadn't felt for years. It hung in the air, and painted everything into a sweet memory, even as it happened. It was one of those rare moments that both knew would make history in their lives, and they fully felt it happening. They experienced it calmly, unafraid and awed. He was quieted by the beauty he felt, as if he was walking into a glorious cathedral. It fed his heart to watch her, to be near her. It was like watching a butterfly emerging from its chrysallis. It was...amazing.

Neither was afraid to eat their...rather messy...gourmet sandwiches. But the flavor was muted, as if it was a backdrop for something greater. Something sweeter. The honey of promise, almost tangible, on their tongues. After lunch, they went out and walked on the beach.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to ask you this, but...what happened with you and Dana?" Chelsea asked, honestly. She needed to know.

Terry looked over at her openly, his hands in his pockets, hair getting blown by the wind. "Dana and I sort of...fell into dating. And I really cared about her. But she wasn't that happy with me. I couldn't really give her what she wanted..."

Chelsea waited.

"Like..." he let out a huge breath. "Like time. I couldn't be with her twenty-four hours a day, and it drove her crazy."

"Oh. So you don't have much time for a relationship?" Chelsea breathed, hurting on the inside.

"I...may not have all the time you want, no," he admitted quietly.

"Why? Because of your job?" She said, feeling relieved. If he was going to be upfront about it like that, then it couldn't be that bad. As long as they kept an honest relationship, him being busy wouldn't bother her.

"Yes," he replied simply, but there seemed to be more behind his answer.

"You work for Mr. Wayne, right?" Chelsea offered.

"Yep. The old man," he chuckled.

"Well...you must be very privileged to work for him."

He turned to her, a light in his eyes. "Yes, I am. I really enjoy my work, and it's really important."

"Oh. I meant because you probably get paid a lot," she giggled.

He laughed loudly. "Well yeah, I do."

"What do you do for him?"

Terry glanced over at her. "Well, anything. Run errands for him, mostly," he said, smirking at the joke.

"Soo, like, can you give me an...EXAMPLE...?"

"I don't really get too detailed."

"Oh." Chelsea didn't want to say "Dana mentioned that," so instead she said: "That's kinda'...weird."

"Yeah, I know." Terry grimaced, feeling uncomfortable.

They walked quietly for a few moments.

"So...what's your favorite board game?" Chelsea exclaimed, grabbing at something.

"Board game? Does anyone even play those any more?" Terry laughed.

"Well...my dad does. He forces me to sometimes. When he wants to 'bond.'"

"Ah."

Chelsea frowned. "Okay, vid game then?"

"I don't have much time for vid games...but when I do I play Battlestar Galatica XXL," he said, his voice getting more excited.

"Hmm, you sound pretty familiar with that game for not having much time to play it," she noted with a sly smile.

Terry laughed. "It's relaxing. Ya' gotta' know how to unwind."

Chelsea glanced over at him, taking in his black hair falling slightly over his eye, and her heart leapt. She quickly busied herself with lightly fingering her long blue feather earrings.

Terry looked up at her, and laughed again, saying, "You are so schway, Chelsea."

Chelsea looked startled and dropped her hand. "Oh?"

Terry blushed a bit, and realized they were running out of beach to walk on. He doubted Chelsea could climb that huge rock pile up in her dress.

"Umm, should we walk back?" Chelsea said.

"Uh, yeah, sure." He couldn't very well say what he wanted to, which was, "Um, no, let's keep hanging out."

"Alright," she allowed him a sparkling smile, which made his mind go blank.

As they walked back to the car, they were both quiet with their own soft, happy thoughts.

In the car, they made light attempts at conversation. At her home, Chelsea hopped out before Terry could offer to walk her to the door. She said goodbye politely and rushed back inside, and he did nothing, as it would have been too awkward.


	4. Having Trouble

Chelsea paced her sewing room, nails nearly bitten off. She had avoided ten of Dana's calls over the past two days, not wanting to have to tell her best friend about the date. The date that had been so good...no, better than good. The best date she had ever been on. She had never felt so connected to, so intrigued by, or so attracted to, anyone before. She had a great time, she had wanted to answer his call that night, but she hadn't. This couldn't continue. It was too weird. It felt wrong to feel this way about someone who was, only days ago, dating anyone else at all, let alone Dana. No, the truth was, it felt too weird to feel this way, PERIOD. She stopped pacing and cocked her head. Had she felt this way...._ever_? She had not been looking for this right now. Especially not with Terry McGinnis. Even if he wasn't Dana's ex, he was still _Terry_. That guy who got bad grades in school, constantly skipped dates with his girlfriend: sloppy-dressed, insensitive, sarcastic Terry McGinnis.

Yet the troubling part, she knew that wasn't true. She had never encountered such sensitivity in a guy before. Hadn't he protected her secret? Cared about it? Shown interest? Yes, he had. Hadn't he been on time to their date? Treated her like a lady? Well, that was just one date. A guy could act like anything for a couple hours. She had to trust what Dana had always told her about him. But she knew that she was trying to force herself to believe these things, to think harshly of him.

Chelsea shook her head roughly and reached into the deep pockets of her lime green cargo pants. Finding a pen there, she clicked it in and out rapidly, chewing her lip.

"Chelsea?" She heard faintly. Her heart paused. Dana was there in her house. Chelsea couldn't keep her mind from flashing to when Terry had opened her door unexpectedly. Would Dana find her hideout? She cracked the door open.

"Chelsea?" She heard again. Dana was nowhere close. Chelsea ducked out and ran, trying not to slip in her socks, to the landing. Dana was wandering around one level below, pretty much walking in circles. Chelsea entered another room at the end of the hall, opened a handleless door in the wall and ran down a steep passageway. She exited the passageway at the third door on her right, and came out in another room on the level that Dana was on. She walked out into the landing right behind Dana.

"Hey Dana," Chelsea said brightly.

Dana whirled around. "Oh. Hey. Didn't you hear me calling?"

"Yeah, sorry, I was...getting dressed." She smiled.

Dana narrowed her eyes at her friend. "Why have you been avoiding me?!?"

"What do you mean?"

"I have called you, like, twenty times!"

Chelsea almost corrected her and said "ten," before she stopped herself. "You have? Really?" She pulled her phone and smacked it against her hand a couple times. "It probably isn't working again..."

"Okay, well, how did your date go?" She demanded.

"Um...good." Chelsea looked at the floor.

"How good?"

"Really good, Dana," Chelsea sighed, clearly not pleased that it was good, and about to open up with her feelings.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, Chelsea! Did you _sleep_ with him!?!"

"WHAAAAAAT!?!"

"You heard me."

"DANA TAN YOU ARE MENTAAAAAAAAAAL!!!"

Dana jumped and held her hands up. "Okay, gawd. Please chill out. I thought you'd been not answering my calls after going out with him and I..."

Chelsea slammed her hands on her wide funky belt that sat on her hips, over her brown tee shirt. "No. I did not. Sleepwithhim."

"Ooookay." Dana rolled her eyes. "Well then will you tell me about it, at least?"

"Why would I bother." Chelsea muttered and turned around, stalking off toward the kitchen. Dana, unfazed, skittered along after her. Once in the huge marble-and-tile-and-shiny-black-surfaces kitchen, Chelsea rummaged around, slamming cupboard doors aggressively. Dana sat meekly on a black barstool, waiting for her friend to calm down.

A woman in jeans and a grey short-sleeve uniform collared shirt entered the room, carrying a massive duster. "Hey, Mrs. Dillon," Dana greeted her. Mrs. Dillon smiled at her, saying "Hi, Miss Tan," and proceeded to dust along the crown molding. Chelsea stared at her moving form without comprehending, the expression on her face both irate and blank, as she stuffed a mustard sandwich into her mouth. She chewed almost with her mouth open.

"Chelsea," Dana began, about to tell her that she had gotten a piece of bread with mustard on it on her shirt.

"-No." Chelsea interrupted, her mouth full. "Do not even talk."

"Gosh, it wasn't _that_ bad," Dana mused to herself.

Chelsea rolled her eyes toward her friend and then ended with a deathly glare.

"WELL HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW IF YOU WON'T TALK TO ME?" Dana cried in self-defense.

Chelsea sighed. She couldn't stay mad at Dana for long, no matter how ridiculous.

"Okay, well, I'll tell you about it. It went well, but I just, remember how you said he always stood you up and stuff and I don't think I can go against my own advice to you--"

Dana looked at Chelsea with her head cocked. The cleaning lady moved on into the next room. "Why would that make you not call me?"

Chelsea opened her mouth to speak, but could think of nothing to say. "Umm..."

They both heard the front door open, but were surprised when Chelsea's dad walked into the room. He was wearing a business suit and immaculately groomed hair, but his face looked very tired. "Just got in from my flight," he explained shortly, sounding exhausted.

"Hi, Mr. Cunningham," Dana said brightly.

"Hi, Dana," he said as he walked to the fridge and opened it. Chelsea held the orange juice out to him. She had gotten it out, because at the moment, she had thought that orange juice and mustard would taste together when your best friend turned out not to know you at all. He took it.

"Thanks, Chelse."

"Sure," she said, raising her eyebrow. The sooner he got what he needed, the sooner he could leave.

Not finding anything readily acceptable, Mr. Cunningham opened the freezer and pulled out a pizza. Glancing at the instructions, his brow creased. "Damn. Chelsea, could you cook this for me? I have stuff to do..." He held it out to her.

Chelsea looked at him incredulously. "What? I'm not your cook."

"Well you're not doing anything! All you have to do is put it in the oven."

Chelsea felt her cheeks reddening with anger and embarrassment. She hated it when he argued with her in front of Dana.

"You could do that, too, Dad," she muttered.

Dana watched them with wide eyes.

"Yeah but you could watch it for me! I have to go up and make a call."

"Why don't you just get an oven put in your office?" Chelsea grumbled, turning away.

"God, Chelsea!" Mr. Cunningham slammed the pizza back into the freezer and stormed out of the room.

Once he left, Dana jumped up from her chair and ran to her friend, throwing her arms around her. "He is such a jerk! I don't know how you put up with him, Chelse."

"Hence why my mom left." Chelsea said dryly.

"Well, I would have," Dana agreed sympathetically. "Though I wouldn't have left _you_."

Chelsea smiled and put her hand on Dana's dark, silky head. This was one thing she loved about Dana. She really took her side with her dad.

"Let's get out of here," Chelsea suggested. Even though she probably wouldn't see her dad for a couple days, even if they were living in the same house, she hated the entire place just because she -might- see him.

"Shopping?" Dana suggested, looking up hopefully into her friend's face.

"Sure," Chelsea agreed. Not that she needed any more clothes.

* * *

"I think I need a smaller size," Dana called from the other side of the fitting room door.

Chelsea laughed and handed a yellow dress to Dana over the door. "I knew it! You always do that."

"You know my size better than I do," Dana agreed, sheepishly.

Chelsea shrugged, though Dana couldn't see her, standing there with a pair of jeans over her arm.

"So, Jake, is sooooooo cute. It's his personality. Not that he's not, you know, like, physically, too, but, God, I wish you could have seen him on our date, Chelsea. He's unbelievable."

Chelsea smiled. "He sounds like a good one, Dane."

Dana was so into her thoughts of him that she didn't notice the use of her least favorite nickname.

"Like, he was making jokes all the time. He was friends with everyone in the restaurant by the time we left...but he made me feel, like, like...the star of the show," she said, exiting the dressing room and continuing it as they made their way to the cash register.

Chelsea put her jeans up on the counter and listened attentively.

"And then the way he tucked my hair behind my ear when he said goodnight...it was so _sweet_."

Dana paused her story when it was her turn to pay. But as they went walking back down the mall, she picked back up.

"And he called back that same night!" She giggled.

Chelsea looked up, startled. "Is that a big deal? You know, for a guy to call the same day you go out?"

Dana looked at her friend in shock. "UM, YES! He is like, risking so much. Guys rarely do that. They don't want you to know that they are _majorly_ interested in you. Which they are, if they call you right away. I thought you would know that."

"Oh."

A girly song erupted from Chelsea's pocket, and she reached for the lime green fabric quickly.

"Hey Chelsea," read the text. It was Terry. Chelsea looked up and simultaneously closed her phone, firmly.

Dana looked at Chelsea, swinging her carrier bag. "Who was that?"

"No one." Was her sturdy reply.

"Chelsea! Was that Terry?"

"WHAT?" "Oh, come on. I know not many other people call you besides me. And I'm here," she added rather unnecessarily.

Chelsea gave her an exasperated look, and Dana smiled back sweetly. It was clear that Dana wasn't going to investigate the subject further, which Chelsea was glad for. Dana's cell began ringing. Chelsea laughed and grabbed Dana's shopping bag so that she could dig through her purse.

"Hello? Oh, Hey, Dave!" Dana said in a friendly voice and stroked her hair down a bit as if he could see her. Chelsea giggled, and then spotted a gorgeous knit black dress in a store window.

"Come on, let's try this on," Chelsea said, grabbing Dana's free wrist and pulling her towards it.

* * *

"Blade's having a party in a week," Dana informed Chelsea as they sat on Chelsea's front porch, enjoying the sun baking their tank-and-shorts clad bodies.

"Oh, I don't think I'll go to that," Chelsea shrugged, eyes closed.

"Okay, if you're sure, but I'm going to have to decide which of the three guys I'm going to bring. That should be interesting," Dana giggled.

"You could bring all of them," Chelsea suggested, peaking at her friend through one eye.

Dana's dad's car pulled into the driveway. Dana got up and gathered her shopping bags. "See ya', Chelse!"

"Okay, bye," Chelsea agreed, leaning back. She listened to the sound of the car driving away. Moments later, she heard it come back. She opened her eyes and peered at the driveway from the ground. -"Did she forget a shopping bag?"- Flashed through her mind. But it wasn't Mr. Tan's car. It was Terry's. She sat up quickly, feeling caught.

Terry got out. He was wearing a green tee shirt with writing on it under a paler green zip up hoodie over jeans.

"Hey," Chelsea called awkwardly, lifting a hand.

"Hey," Terry said, trying to smile as if nothing was bothering him. "Is it okay that I came over?"

"Sure," she answered, her tone a bit evasive.

He came over next to her and sat down. He didn't speak for awhile. When he did, what he said surprised her.

"Do you ever feel like you're living two different lives, and like you are having trouble...switching back and forth?"

Chelsea laughed. "After I'm done reading a good book."

"Terry looked startled and smiled at her with his eyebrows raised. "I didn't know you read!"

"Hey!" She gasped and smacked his arm. "You're really flattering, Ter."

"Thanks," he responded, leaning back on his hands with a smug expression.

"Why do you ask?" Chelsea curiously lilted her voice.

Terry immediately looked put-off. "Oh, well. You know. I thought you'd understand. Because of your...you know, clothes stuff."

"Understand what? You living a double life?" Chelsea cocked her head at him.

Terry coughed and cleared his throat.

"Are you gaaaaaaaaayy?" That was a bit of school-time Chelsea coming out.

Terry jumped. Then he looked at her. "No." His voice was a little higher.

Chelsea lay back down, a smile on her lips. She enjoyed putting him on the defensive. But then she started feeling a little guilty. Especially when she looked over at him and saw that his face was set in hard, serious lines, and he was staring at the ground.

She sat up carefully and straightened her shorts a bit. Terry turned to her, determined.

"Did you have a good time on our date?"

"Yes," She replied back, breathlessly, pinned in place by his eyes.

"Then why are you avoiding me?" He continued his interrogation.

"WhydoyouthinkIamavoidingyou?" She tried, still frozen.

He paused, a bit thrown off. "Well...you obviously don't want to talk to me."

She couldn't say anything, she only stared back at him, her throat getting dry. Her eyes were, too, as she had forgotten to blink. She forced her eyes to open and close several times. "Uuuuuhhhhhmmm..."

"Look, Chelsea, it's just that my life is...complicated...and...I can't guess at what's going on with you. I'm no good at that."

Chelsea latched on to offense like a life-line. "Oh yeah? So what, you want me to just be..._easy_ or something?"

Terry wasn't distracted. "No! It's just that I can't figure out what's going on in your head. I'm not good with women, I don't have time to...figure them out."

Chelsea got up and glared down at him. "So you want me to be -un-complicated-? Check the definition of _women_ in the dictionary, Terry McGinnis! Women ARE confusing!"

Terry stood up slowly, not aggressively. His face was very confused and he looked down and to the side.

Chelsea stared at him demandingly.

He pushed a hand through his hair, and still said nothing.

"Ugh," Chelsea said in disgust and turned toward her house.

"Chelsea?" Terry asked, gently.

"Yes?" She asked in a steely tone, facing him.

"Uh. It was nice to see you," with that, he slowly turned and headed for his car. He hopped in and drove off. Chelsea watched him with a frown on her face, a stinging feeling inside her. She felt bad for hurting him like that. But there -was- something about him that rubbed her the wrong way. Like him saying, "I don't have time to figure them out." What was up with Terry McGinnis?

But over the next few days, when Terry had made no more attempts to contact her, it really stung. Even though she had pushed him away intentionally, and was still in the frame of mind to continue to do so, she sort of wished she hadn't.


	5. Testing The Waters

"Terry?" Chelsea spoke shakily after having held the phone to her face for a moment.

"Hey – Chelse. Um, how are you?"

Still washed in the feeling of relief of receiving his unexpected call, Chelsea collapsed back onto her bed. "Uh, good. I'm good."

"Oh, good."

"How are you?"

"Good."

"….Shway…" Chelsea said, the relief fading a bit.

"So, er – I was calling you to see if you wanted to go to Blade's party tomorrow. Uh, with me."

"…Uh."

Silence. She honestly thought that Terry had given up on her. It had been a week since she had heard from Terry. After she had chewed him out randomly.

"Need a date that bad?" She smirked.

Terry laughed. "So, would you like to?"

"Hmm, sure. I guess." She added. Wait, should she be agreeing to go? There was a reason she had chewed him out. No. She could not get caught in the cycle Dana had been caught in.

"Oh! Awesome!" He sounded happy.

"Well I gotta' go," Chelsea said, quickly.

"Oh – oh, alright. Well, I'll pick you up at eight?"

"Sure." She clicked off. Dang it! If only she had thought about it before hand. She should have steeled herself with resolve. Been prepared. But truthfully, his call, and his request, had caught her off guard. Frankly, everything Terry McGinnis did caught her off guard.

* * *

She felt unprepared in her immaculate knit black dress and pearls and black pumps. Her short hair was caught back one side with a mother-of-pearl comb, and her eyes were smoky and her lips red. She felt boring, but…stern. Feeling so uncertain on the inside, she needed to project a façade of…well, certainty. When Terry pulled in, she rose stiffly and took her black clutch in hand to open the door and leave. But Terry had already bounded up to the door. When she opened it, she was surprised to see him standing there in a smart black tux.

"Terry!" She exclaimed.

"Hey," he greeted, smiling. "You look amazing."

"Thank you," she said, lifting her chin. "I'm ready to go."

"Oh I don't think so. Chelsea Cunningham, wearing –that- to a party? I don't think so. Not with all those shway clothes upstairs."

"Wha—" she started to protest, but Terry had let himself in and was ushering her back up the stairs where she had come from. Chelsea could hardly produce any sounds as Terry expertly maneuvered her with a hand on her arm and her back. He let go of her to open the door to her sewing room and then reached for her wrist.

"No. No, Terreeeeee—" But he disregarded her laughing protests as he pulled her inside.

"Here. This." He instructed, pulling out the blue gown.

"What? Terry McGinnis!" She laughed in disbelief.

"Come on," he coaxed, holding the dress up to himself alluringly.

Chelsea covered her mouth with her hand and laughed in gasps.

Terry tossed it at her it landed on her head. "Okay you get changed and I'll wait downstairs."

"Terry!" She yanked it off her head. "I can't wear this! It's way too…_dramatic_."

"So, sure, we'll be way more dressy than anyone else? But so? You won't be alone. I dressed to match. He grinned at her.

Why did her eyes smart all the sudden? What was that lump in her throat?

"Okay, hurry, I'm excited!" He commanded happily and jogged out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him. She heard him prance down the stairs.

Chelsea puffed her cheeks out in a sigh and looked at herself in the full-length mirror. Besides her hair looking wacky from the dress messing it up, she didn't look like herself. She looked twenty five. Terry had a point. But maybe not this extreme. He was asking her to wear her most crazy piece of clothing…how dare he? Who did he think he was? But she wasn't afraid. And besides, it was pretty fun…being with Terry.

She quickly pulled off her dress, the comb, and her black pumps. Hesitantly, she stepped into the cool puddle of blue silk and pulled it up. She slipped her arms through the sleeve holes, and then they were deliciously free as the sleeves cut away and fell like wings on either side of her arms. But the front plunged to her navel! In an embarrassed rush, Chelsea hurried to readjust the black laces. She found that if she tightened them considerably, none of her skin showed through until she loosened it. She let the ends dangle. Then she padded quietly to her room where she added long gold pendulum earrings and a stack of golden bangles. She made her lips more glossy and sheer, and added sparkles to her eyelids. Okay, now she really was too dressy. After putting on some strappy flat sandals, she made her way downstairs. Terry was waiting there on the bench for her. He rose when he saw her, with a huge grin on his face.

"What?" Chelsea said, crossly, when she reached the bottom.

"Oh I was just thinking that it's a good thing I brought this," he teased, as he pulled a see-through box from behind his back, containing a blue orchid.

Chelsea gasped. "What's that?"

He opened the box and offered her the flower – attached to a hair comb. "For your hair."

"Oh," Chelsea said, not sure what to do.

Terry stepped onto the same step with her and gently put in her hair behind her ear. "I think you're ready now," he said softly.

"I feel like I'm going to prom," she whispered as she took his arm and headed out the door with him with the same black clutch.

Terry laughed. "Yeah, a little bit."

"So, no work tonight?" Chelsea managed to ask through her nervousness as they drove to Blade's house. No doubt her parents were out of town, again.

"Nope. Got the night off," he said simply, gazing out the windshield with a positive attitude.

Chelsea said nothing else during the drive. Everyone from school – and a few people who weren't from school – would be there. And this would be the first time they would see Chelsea dressed so out-of-the-box. And this dress was the…weirdest thing she owned. She could already feel her cheeks getting red from the embarrassment. Would everyone think it was cool? Or would she look like a total freak? Either way, she was definitely going to catch attention. She glanced over at her date in wonder. He was totally unconcerned. She realized that if this, her premier, as it almost was, were to fail, she would _have_ to date McGinnis. If everyone that she was a weirdo except Terry, she wouldn't have any other options. And it would be his fault for bringing her down. Why couldn't she say no to his persuasion?

They arrived too soon. The house was okay, in a middle-class part of town. They had a small yard with a house that was too big for it that looked quite unremarkable and not that well kept. The inside was clean and empty. Except for the people. Whenever Chelsea was there, it was always packed with people and pulsing lights. And loootttsss of alcohol. Despite her anxiety, she was already having a really good time. She wondered at that as they shared a smile, walking toward the door. Terry walked in first, sensing Chelsea's apprehension. "Hey, Terraayy!" The crowd cheered. Blade was standing next to the DJ, flirting with him and overseeing his music choices.

"Chelsea!" She called in excitement and started toward her as Chelsea stepped in. She stopped when her eyes took in her garb. The crowd, already paying attention because it was two of their most popular characters entering, now seemed very expectant. They were waiting for their dramatic hostess to react to what had stopped her.

"Hey, Blade," Chelsea called, hesitantly. She tried in vain to pretend that the whole crowd wasn't staring at her.

"What…are you wearing?" Blade asked, cocking her head to the side in real curiosity. Blade herself was wearing a short lavender mini dress layered with fringe.

Terry slowly let the door close behind Chelsea. He looked wary for the first time that evening, uncertain. Max stepped out from around the corner, holding a drink. "That's a Frank Gigoria, isn't it?"

"Umm…yes." Chelsea squeaked rather uncertainly.

"Woah. Man, that thing costs like a trillion dollars," Max chuckled appreciatively. What a damn good actor, Chelsea thought, unable to adopt a normal expression.

"Oh my god! That. Is so. SHWAY, Chelsea!!!" Blade gushed. The crowd began to talk, finally. None of the guys knew who Frank Gigoria was, Terry included, though he could guess. He gave Max a hard look. She grinned tomboyishly.

"His new collection is so…medieval," she informed the crowd as she took a sip.

"Medieval is so hot right now!" Blade exclaimed.

Chelsea, knowing that movement was key at any party, took a few casual steps in. Terry shadowed.

"Lookin' hot, Chelse!" A guy from school called. Terry's eyes rolled slowly to him.

"Oh my god I am so jealous," Blade muttered, not recovered.

"_Frank Gigoria_," a girl murmured enviously as Chelsea passed her. She reached out a hand slightly, as if she wanted to touch the glorious creation.

Chelsea walked to Max. Terry stopped to talk to some guys on the way. "So really, what _are_ you wearing?" Max asked in a lower, not uncomplimentary voice when Chelsea got close.

Chelsea looked caught. "Not Frank Gigoria, obviously."

"Well, dang, you look beautiful."

Chelsea smiled. "Thank you. So much."

Max grinned.

"So…where's Dana?"

Max lifted her hand that was wrapped around her drink and pointed one finger toward Dana in the middle of the crowd. Only her head was visible, bobbing up and down and laughing, surrounded by a lot of guys who all seemed to be paying attention to her. Chelsea lifted a hand to her mouth and stifled a laugh. "Alright," she finally managed. "I'm gonna' go get a drink."

As she headed toward the drink table, Terry was by her side again. "How come you didn't tell Max you made the dress?" He pressed. Chelsea looked at him in surprise.

"I didn't know you were…eavesdropping," she said harshly.

Terry was looking at her seriously, and when Chelsea met his blue eyes in the dimness, she had to look away, unable to handle it. It was too…gravely honest, uncomplicated, and simple.

"I don't think I'm quite ready to." She admitted with a sigh.

"Okay," Terry said, acceptingly. "But when you _are_ ready, I think people will really look up to you for it."

Chelsea smiled at him. "So, can I get you a drink?" She offered, wanting to take control of the situation.

"Sure," Terry said, smiling, even though he stood right there at the drink table as well.

"Okay. What?"

"Well…how about…limeaid?" He asked, looking at what was available. The non-alcoholic drinks were mostly undisturbed and hard to reach on the ledge behind the table leading into the kitchen.

"Really? No free beer?"

Terry looked at her slowly. "Nope." His lips popped on the p.

"Okay." Chelsea reached for the bottle of green carbonated liquid and admired the design of her dress as there were no sleeves dragging inconveniently in the open punch bowls. Her long, slit sleeves were pinned against were she leaned on the table, as long as the dress. She enjoyed the feeling of her arms being bare and free. Terry's eyes seemed to be looking at her arms, too.

She poured his drink into a Styrofoam cup and handed it to him.

"Styrofoam? I get the kitty cup?" He pretended to be peeved as he took it.

"Yes. I didn't want to give you a clear cup and have people make fun of you."

Terry laughed, but he kept his eyes on hers instead of breaking contact when he laughed, "That's so thoughtful, Chelsea. Well, can I get _you_ something to drink?"

"Sure!"

Terry set down his cup on the edge of the table, and his hands hovered over the selection, expectant eyes on her.

She absolutely could not wipe the smile off her face. She had _such_ a good time with this guy. "Am I allowed to have liquor when I'm with you?"

"You're underage," he reminded her, a little more seriously.

"Okay, then, water." He poured her some water in a clear cup and gave it to her. Purpose accomplished, they turned and observed the room, a little awkwardly. Terry sipped his drink. Chelsea spotted Dana no longer dancing, and perked up.

"I'm gonna' go say hi to Dana, okay?"

"Oh. O-okay." Terry stammered, surprised.

Chelsea quickly maneuvered away, shifting her cup and her purse into the same hand. "Hey Dana!" She greeted happily.

"Hey Chelse!" She replied. "Majorly shway dress!"

"Thanks," Chelsea grinned, glancing to the guys still lounging around near her.

"Are you having fun?" Dana asked, looking pretty and adjusting her many golden bangles on her wrist.

"Yes. A lot," Chelsea replied honestly, meeting her friend's eyes. Dana's smile widened in response. "Are you?"

"Yes," Dana giggled. "I'll have to introduce you to the guys I brought."

"Yes you will!" Chelsea insisted, but before Dana could grab the attention of any of her males, Blade popped up at Chelsea's shoulder.

"Oh my god!" She began, but then her eyes roved over to Dana and she clamped her mouth shut. "Uhm, can I speak with you privately?" She asked, her lips continually folding over each other as if this made her seem inconspicuous.

"Sure," Chelsea laughed, glancing at Dana with wide eyes. Dana was laughing, her shoulders shaking in a conventional pink sparkly shirt over jeans.

Chelsea followed Blade's quickly retreating blonde, hairsprayed hair. When they were a good distance from Dana, Blade suddenly whirled to face Chelsea. Chelsea pulled up short in surprise. "Everything okay?" Chelsea asked, partially concerned.

Blade fixed Chelsea with wide, unfocused eyes. "Did you come here with _Terry_?" She hissed the name in excitement.

"Uhm. Yes. Sort of." Chelsea fidgeted.

"Like, as a date?"

"I guess," Chelsea puckered her lips and then brought her drink up them, her eyes not leaving Blade's, hoping it made her look less guilty.

"Does Dana know!?"

Here Chelsea was torn between giggling and rolling her eyes. Still, the scandal that Blade thought was going on peeved Chelsea. "Yes! She sort of…set us up."

"_No_." Blade said in a way that did not question her belief in what Chelsea told her.

Now Chelsea giggled, feeling affection swelling in her for her friend that she didn't hang out with much outside of school.

"So. Does this mean you are like, _sleeping with him_?"

"No! Oh my god." Chelsea took a step back with disgust. Honestly. What was with these people and their sex obsession?

"Well okay," Blade said, miffed. "But I'll let you get back to your _date_," she smiled and tickled the air with the fingers on one of her hands as she said the last word.

"Oh. Okay…" Chelsea responded uncertainly. Blade danced off, not wasting another word.

Chelsea turned back around. She could see Terry's tall head across the room. He was watching her, but when he caught her eyes, he dropped them into his drink and scuffed his hair with his hand, is if he had something to do. Her eyes skipped over to Dana, but she was dancing again, right next to the wall, with just one guy this time. The other guys had wandered off. Max was nowhere to be seen. There was nowhere to go but back to Terry. She walked back over, trying to seem like it was her choice and not because she had nothing better to do.

"Hey," she said, in a cool tone.

Terry looked up as if surprised. "Hey," he said, "wanna dance?"

Chelsea's eyes widened a bit. But then she smiled. Dance was one thing she knew how to do. And she did it often, with everyone. Different guys all the time. Noo problem. She almost couldn't think of anything less personal. This should be easy and not…awkward. Terry gently took her hand and led her out into the middle of crowd.

She waved to someone she knew from school on the way. Nope, she was wrong. This was bound to be awkward. They already looked like they were a "thing." Once they were in the center and Terry had turned to face her, he dropped her hand. They realized that they were still holding their drinks. Terry hesitated awkwardly, but Chelsea began dancing, not letting her sloshing cup distract her. She worked taking a long gulp into a dance move so that it wouldn't spill.

Terry grinned hugely while watching her and then tilted the cup back all the way, emptying the nearly full glass. Then, he crunched the Styrofoam into shards – clearly he had thought it would ball up like a paper cup - in his hand, and, after a moment of indecision, tossed the pieces over his head like confetti. As it began drifting down all around him, he broke into some moves. The people who were near enough to see it happen all cheered. Dear God, Terry McGinnis and his…panache.

Chelsea laughed and rolled her eyes. She was careful not to make her moves too sexy, and tried to match Terry because his style was frankly rather…old school, and she didn't want to look like a freak. Terry gave her space and mostly just made a lot of faces at her while he danced. There were a couple of moves he did where he "had" to grab her hands. She found herself laughing a lot. She had expected that at the end of the song she would be ready to head back for the wall, or go find her girls. But she didn't. They kept dancing, through probably about five songs. She noticed Max finally, giving her a big thumbs-up but still not dancing. Though she hadn't heard it, apparently Terry's cell had rung because he pulled it out and frowned at it. "Hang on, I have to go outside and take this!" Terry shouted across to Chelsea. When she nodded, he lifted the phone to his ear and quickly wove his way out of the crowd.

Chelsea took that opportunity to go over to Max. A guy tapped her on the shoulder on her way. "Wanna' dance," he asked, offering his hand invitingly. "No thanks," Chelsea smiled, and continued on her way. She stopped in front of Max. "Still not dancing?" Max perked up on the stool she was sitting on.

"Nah." She shrugged. "Highschool boys. Ew. You know."

Chelsea laughed and felt further comforted, knowing that Max meant Terry, as well.

"Well, would you like to dance with _me_?" Chelsea wagged her eyebrows at Max in a goofy attractive way.

"Hell yes!" Max responded, trying not to laugh. She took Chelsea's drink and set it on a windowsill before jumping up.

She followed Chelsea out onto the floor. They were both already dancing as they went, acting silly. Dana caught Chelsea's eye and waved to her, clearly having a great time but wanting to interact with her girlfriends as well. Max started to take off her fitted green army jacket over her brown tank top in a strip tease way, and Chelsea could hardly keep upright for laughter. A guy called at her only to get smacked by the girl he was dancing with. That did it for Chelsea. She had to stagger away and lean against the wall for support as she laughed.

Terry touched her arm and smiled along with her. "What's so funny?"

"…M..max…" Chelsea managed through her laughter. Max had jiggled her way over to Dana and her cut in between her and her date, bewildering the poor, innocent looking guy.

Terry smirked and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it's usually her."

Chelsea smiled warmly at him. "Who was it that called? I mean, if it's okay –"

"Oh yeah, no, it's fine. It was Br—uh, my boss."

"Oh," Chelsea said, standing straighter.

"I – I'm so sorry, Chelse, but the old guy needs me."

Chelsea gave an overly big shrug. It's not that she minded, she was perfectly fine on her own, but she did feel rather awkward being in the same position that Dana had been in. "It's alright."

"I've got time to take you home," Terry said.

"No, it will _not_ be alright if you make me leave early," Chelsea laughed. "Don't worry. I'll catch a ride home with someone."

"Well, okay," Terry seemed unsure. "But make sure whoever takes you home hasn't had anything to drink," he cautioned seriously.

Chelsea blinked at him. "Oookay," she replied.

"Okay, sorry, Chelsea. I'll call you! I had a great time," he looked like he wanted to say more, or do something more, but he simply turned and walked out.

She watched him, not really sure what she felt.


	6. Unintended Date

Author's scolding: Okay guys, I know you are reading because I am getting favorites and review alerts. But where are the reviews? I want to know what you guys think!

Also, listen to "Uninvited" by Alanis Morisette beginning when I tell you... hehe.

* * *

Chelsea had a great time the rest of the evening. It wasn't in spite of Terry leaving, and it wasn't hard to recover from his unexpected departure. It was like it was easier to have fun, after the time she had spent with him. The memory of their fun, and the feeling of their chemistry and excitement swirled around inside her head and made her mood buoyant. She danced with Dana and Max (who finally did dance with a couple of guys) and got to meet Dana's dates. Blade even found time despite hosting the party to corner Chelsea and interrogate her even further. Chelsea couldn't believe that she had let Terry convincer her to the wear the dress. Even everyone that it was reverently shway, it was so hard to dance in! There was a reason not to wear elegant evening wear to a high school party after all. But Terry would be happy. He was getting her out of her "shell." Though no one would have considered Chelsea to be in a shell. But sometimes a shell could be a façade of outgoingness. Actually, probably often, Chelsea realized, thinking of Blade. And what a brilliant disguise it was. Who would guess? Terry McGinnis, it turns out.

Still, she couldn't figure out why he had taken such a marked interest in her so soon after he and Dana broke up. It must have been curiosity. The incongruity in her character her had glimpsed. The cracks in her façade that he for some reason was observant enough to pick up on. It wasn't that she was _that_ fake. She really was bubbly and girly and popular. She did enjoy cheerleading, and wearing short skirts, and dating guys, and that whole bit. But that was only half of a story. She enjoyed short skirts…but pleats, all the time? Couldn't it become a little more creative? And who knows, maybe she _was_ outgrowing it. Just like she had outgrown all the boys in her class. Except maybe Terry. Now that was ironic.

But she was conflicted. More conflicted than perhaps she should be. Maybe it was because she could see the potential of really caring for Terry, yet she knew that he was an unsolved mystery, and she was honest and intelligent enough with herself to know that she may not be okay with that in the long run. Dana's most persistent date, who had not been drinking, was chivalrous enough to drive Chelsea home as well. Chelsea was surprised to find that she really liked him. He had great friend potential. Though he was too skinny and jokey for her taste. But she could understand why Dana was interested when he gazed at her with adoration and his complete attention.

"Bye, Jake," Chelsea called happily as she got out of the car.

"Goodbye, Chelsea!" He returned, friendly to fault.

"He brings my flowers every time he sees me," Dana giggled quietly as she walked Chelsea to her door. Chelsea reached for Dana's hand and squeezed it in excitement.

"Smart guy. You deserve it," Chelsea said warmly.

Dana smiled shyly at the ground, but then remembered her question at the door. "So those flowers…are they from Terry?" She smiled hopefully.

Chelsea blinked for a moment, just remembering the flowers in her hair. She reached up and ruffled the petals, not afraid of crushing them. "Uh-huh."

"Well," she said, her smile widening, "you deserve it."

"Dana," Chelsea said, concern lacing her tone. "Terry had to leave early tonight."

Dana nodded, as she had noticed, but not said anything. She didn't think it was anything to be worried about.

"He had to work."

"Well – that does happen," Dana told her friend honestly.

"I don't – I don't know if I can handle that," Chelsea said, fiddling with her black clutch.

"Why? It seemed like you still had a great time!" She exclaimed.

"Well yeah, I did…but…it's going to happen a lot. And not just when I'm with a group. When we have fancy dates set up, the two of us. I would be alone every night, wouldn't I?"

Dana fell to fiddling with her bangles. "Maybe," she said carefully, "Or maybe it will be different for you. Maybe Terry and I just didn't fit, and maybe he'll stick around more, with you."

That did it for Chelsea. Terry was a goner. But Chelsea didn't allow this to register on her face. "Okay, well, you get back to your date," she said excitedly. "Have a good night!"

"Oh, he's just taking me straight home," Dana giggled.

"Mm-hmm, see that he does," Chelsea said seriously, hiding a smile in the corners of her lips. She was ever the protective best friend.

Chelsea waved brightly as Dana skipped back to the car and drove off. She looked so happy. Chelsea felt a stab of misery as she turned and let herself into the dark house.

He did call. Twenty minutes after she got home. She let it go to voicemail. "Hey," he said breathlessly. "I wouldn't call so late, except I know that you wouldn't come home any sooner. In fact, you're probably not back yet. So…" here his voice become uncertain, less jovial. "Well, I'll call you tomorrow."

The next morning, she awoke to an email from him. "Chelse," it read. "I had the best time with you last night. I am so sorry I had to cut it short. But glad that I'm not deceiving you. I'm sorry my life is like that. So hectic. But it's not bad in the summer. Maybe it's cowardly to say this in an email, but maybe we could try it for the summer. I only work during the day three days a week, sometimes less. And I work almost every night. But all my other time would be yours. I like you a lot, Chelsea. You fascinate me. I think we have a lot in common. I hope this isn't too fast for you. I know Dana's been a champ about all this, but I understand if it's too fast for _you_. Anyway, I will call you today. I AM as good as my word. Ter."

It was sent at six this morning. Something told her that was when he had gotten back from working for Bruce. What old man needed help only during the wee hours of the night? It was so weird. The email was sweet. And quite eloquent. But…her worries remained. And he had left such a good opening for her. He had made it so easy for her to say, if she wanted him to leave her alone.

She clicked "reply." "Terry, yes, it is too fast for me…"

But she had to stop. It wasn't true. And that _was_ cowardly. She knew how she felt when she was with him. That couldn't be what "too fast" felt like. And with how Dana was dealing with this…no, there were no problems. If she was being truthful, she was mad at him. Mad that he had some dark secret he couldn't tell, had no intention of telling, ever, no matter what. It pissed her the hell off. She snapped her laptop shut. Stupid Terry McGinnis.

* * *

As Chelsea went downstairs that morning, she was still in a good mood from the party the night before. Until she got to the kitchen and found her dad eating cereal at the kitchen table. She scowled and hurried toward the fridge.

"Goodmorning, Chelsea," Mr. Cunningham said sternly, as if it was a reproof.

Chelsea rolled her eyes and pulled a box of poptarts out of the cupboard instead.

Her phone rang and she was blissfully happy to see that it was Dana. She hated days when her dad stayed home. Thank goodness she had Dana to spend time with. "Hey Dana!" Chelsea greeted perkily.

"Hey, Chelse!" Dana smiled into her end of the phone.

"What are you up to? Do you want to hang out today?"

"Oh well, I can't, today," Dana admitted sheepishly.

Chelsea's shoulders slumped. "Why not?" She couldn't help whining.

"I'm hanging out with Jake," she said, in a guilty way that implied that this was going to become a common occurrence. "But, today I'm going to tell him that I want to date him!"

"Oh, that's cool, Dane," Chelsea said abstractly as she opened the package of poptarts and turned to head back to her room. She felt her father's judgemental eyes on her back and felt angry, annoyed, and sad.

"But I have nothing to wear!!!" Dana wailed.

Chelsea smiled. "What time are you hanging out with him?"

"Two hours," she said miserably.

"I have the perfect thing. Come over and we'll get you ready."

"Really? You would do that!?" Dana cried excitedly.

"Of course!" Chelsea laughed, heading toward her sewing room.

When Dana came over, half an hour later, her makeup and hair already done, Chelsea had the outfit ready and laid out on the bed. She felt so nervous that all she had been able to do was pick the poptart apart between her fingers and pace the room. Dana called when she arrived at the house. "Where are you?" Chelsea told her to meet her on the top floor landing. Dana was wearing a camisole and sweatpants.

"Follow me," Chelsea beckoned mischievously, too excited now to be nervous.

Dana gasped as Chelsea swung the door open and walked in behind her. "Chelsea…what is this?" She managed.

Chelsea smiled, pleased. "Just something…I've been doing in my spare time."

Dana looked at her friend with wide, disbelieving eyes. "You are so…amazing."

"Do you want to see what I made for you, specifically?"

Dana's eyes got even wider and she nodded eagerly.

Chelsea waved toward the bed anti-climatically. "There it is!"

Dana turned toward it and then shrieked. "I love it!" She ran toward it and picked up the hem worshipfully.

It was a sunny yellow dress made out of a lightweight, comfortable knit fabric. There were bows of the same fabric on either shoulder. The hem was woven through with yellow ribbon that tied in a bow on one side and dangled slightly. "Do you like it?" Chelsea asked shyly, meaning more than the dress.

"IT IS THE CUTEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN!" Dana cried, only picking up on the one side of the question. "It's _perfect_ for this," she breathed.

Chelsea grinned. "Well put it on then!"

Just as Chelsea had thought, it looked perfect on her. Over her olive-y Asian skin, with her long, straightened brown hair hanging down her back. Chelsea tied in a matching satin ribbon in a bow in Dana's hair like a headband.

But then Dana had to leave, looking perfect. Chelsea gave a huge sigh and collapsed onto her bed, already feeling ridiculously bored. But this is what she would be feeling anyway if she dated Terry, right? Dana had just as much free time as Chelsea had when she wasn't dating anyone, and Dana had been dating Terry. Terry was NOT the answer, she told herself firmly.

* * *

Much later that afternoon, Chelsea perked up from where she sat one day at her laptop, drumming her fingers, waiting for someone to get online. So Dana was busy having a new boyfriend, but there was Max! No reason to be lonely. Giddy after glimpsing a gleam of hope, Chelsea happily clicked "two" on her phone.

"Hey!" Max's voice answered in her chill, friendly way.

"Hey Max! What are you up to?"

"Nothin' much, girl."

"Do you want to hang out?"

"Absolutely! What do you want to do?"

"...I don't know."

"Well wait a second, lemme' look on my computer and see if there's anything cool going on in the city tonight..." Count on Max to want to do something cool and out-of-the-box.

Chelsea could faintly hear the sound of clacking as Max's hands flew across her keyboard.  "Okay, I've got it," she said very seriously, as though she were aiding on a very important mission. "Black Diamond is playing on the...north side."  

"Shway! I love them. You're amazing, Max."

"So we don't have to go when it first starts. It starts kinda' early...at five. Put there's this little unknown local band playing first."  

"No let's go to that. I'm bored out of my mind."  

"Okay. Can I pick you up? I know downtown Gotham really well."  

"Yeah sure. I'm glad, I get crazy lost, girl."  

Max chuckled, comfortable with being knowledgeable.

The girls were already getting in the mood by playing Black Diamond in Max's car. Black Diamond wasn't that well known, but true to their name, they were a gem. One of Max's finds.  "I just wanna pass you that note in algabraaaaa!!!" Chelsea screamed along enthusiastically with the music.

Max abruptly turned down the screamo, which didn't discourage Chelsea from continuing along with her singing.

"Hold up, hold up, girl," Max laughed. "There's something I've gotta' tell you. You know Matt?"

Chelsea stopped singing and made a face. "That guy from Blade's party?" Max grimaced as both their minds conjured up images of the eager junior was always managed to get invited to the seniors' parties.

"Dana gave him my number."

"NO!" Chelsea gasped, appalled. "That little brat!"

Max shrugged. "Justly deserved punishment for telling Jake that Dana still sucks her thumb."

Chelsea laughed heartily.

The concert was taking place at an inner city highschool. When they pulled up, it wasn't too hard to find a parking spot, even though there were bodies everywhere. The building was plain, long, and low. A true gathering of the faithful. Max turned the power off with the touch of a button, while Chelsea dug through her purse.

"This is for you," Chelsea said, once she had found what she was looking for. She dropped a puddle of heavy, intricate chain into Max's lap. Surprised and curious, Max grabbed an end and lifted it.

"It's a belt…sort of…" Chelsea explained.

"Shway," Max commented, impressed.

"And your outfit is perfect for it," Chelsea said, pleased. Max was dressed in skinny black slacks and a slim black tank top, with simple black shoes. Max's chocolate skinned hands gracefully hooked the chain around her waist. When she stood, it settled, slightly askew, on her hips. It looked awesome on her. On Chelsea, it would have looked too punk, but on Max, it was extremely elegant. Chelsea smiled to herself. If designing was as easy as it was to do for her friends, then her career choice could not have been better suited for her.

"I really love it, thanks," Max said, not asking where Chelsea got it, as they walked closely together toward the building, so as not to get separated by the crowd. From the sounds coming from inside, it was apparent that the first band was already playing. Chelsea pulled the hem of her black camisole down further under her sheer orange shirt that she wore over pale blue jeans. She felt comfortable and unworried, glad to be hanging out with a friend.

(Author's Note: Okay, listen to "Uninvited" by Alanis Morisette...NOW! While reading the rest of this chapter.)

Max and Chelsea wound their way toward the white plastic folding table that served as a makeshift ticket counter. Her phone rang and pulled it out to look at it. Her face momentarily went blank. Chelsea dropped her creds onto the table and let them stamp her hand in return. Max stuffed her phone away and did the same.

"Uh, Chelsea, I invited Terry," Max said as they put a big red smilie on the back of her hand.

Chelsea smiled obliviously at her friend. "What?"

"I invited Terry." As Chelsea's face went blank, she added, "This is his favorite band! Well not _this_ band, but, Black Diamond."

"_Max_, why did you do that?"

"I'm so sorry I did it without asking you! I didn't think he would come!" She exclaimed, sounding depressed and truly remorseful.

Chelsea relaxed slightly as they pushed into the crowded auditorium. "Well okay then, he probably can't come."

"Well, he was able to make it, though," Max said, turning Chelsea around and pointing her toward the door. Terry was the tallest guy in the crowd and having trouble getting around people, though he seemed intent on getting to them.

Chelsea whirled to glare at Max. "Max! I can't believe you invited him!"

Max frowned. "I thought you…" But she had to stop as Terry had made it to them.

"Hey guys!" But he was looking mostly at Chelsea.

"Hey," she answered back, weakly.

"So who are these people?" Terry asked, a smile touching his face.

"I don't know," Max yelled back. "They are the warm-up band."

"They're pretty good," Terry noted.

"Let's get closer," Chelsea commanded, using that opportunity to get away from where Terry stood next to her, too close in the packed room. She grabbed Max's wrist and began hauling her toward the front. She didn't stop until she was at the very lip of the low stage, and had pissed a few people off. Though she tried to stand on the other side of Max from him, Terry came to stand next to Chelsea again, pushing Max further off-center. Terry stood right in front of the lead singer, with Chelsea next him, and then Max.

Chelsea felt sharp surprise when Terry's hand brushed her waist. His voice was in her ear as he bent to her level. "Nice shirt!" He complimented happily. Chelsea looked at his face, suddenly level with hers. She didn't answer, she could only stare.

"We are Flip Side and I want to thank you all for coming tonight!" The lead singer said. "Black Diamond will be on in a little while, but for now, we're going to play you one of my favorite songs, _Tulips_."

Both Chelsea and Terry turned their faces toward the band. Flip Side was more rock than the screamo that Black Diamond often slipped into. The lead singer was scrawny and long, with a wide oval mouth that was close to the mic. His narrow, strong fingers were attacking the strings of his orange electric guitar.

"They are good," Max said, leaning towards Chelsea.

"The bassist especially," Terry said, close to both of their faces. They all looked to the right of Max, at the brawny guy who held an enormous gray bass. His thick fingers played complicated bass riffs as his rock-like body stayed unmoving. His lips were protruding in a square shape as he concentrated, oblivious to all else. A blue light from the stage was shining up from the back of the stage, framing the ripped teen. He was dressed simply in a button-down gray shirt with a silvery sheen to it, with buttoned-down hooks on the shoulders. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal his muscled forearms. He had a thick, long, curly blonde fro that grew low down on his forehead and was pulled back into a low ponytail.

Chelsea didn't know enough about bass to know how impressive his playing was, so she looked towards the other band members, finding nothing to keep her eyes locked on the bassist. But Max, apparently, did. Terry nudged Chelsea's elbow a few minutes later, and nodded toward Max. Chelsea turned to see their friend's eyes still glued to the enormous guy. She had also unconsciously edged closer towards him, so that she stood in front of him, eyes gazing upward into his concentrating face. Chelsea giggled and covered her mouth with her hand.

Terry, too, laughed.

"Does she do this often?" Chelsea queried.

"No, I've never seen her act like this," Terry admitted, very amused.

"I barely have," Chelsea agreed.

"The guy looks like a dumb bear holding a tree. What is with her?"

"I know," Chelsea giggled. She wasn't about to admit to Terry that the guy was actually very handsome. As Chelsea joked with Terry, she couldn't hold back the thought that whispered in her head that she much preferred Terry's animated face and dark hair. Terry was nicely muscled, too, but not in a way that made him seem less able to move. In fact, he seemed very able to move. Very…agile. Chelsea blushed and forcefully looked back toward the stage.

She felt Terry's hand brush her shoulder this time. She looked at him, unable to be unamused. It seemed every time she looked away he had to get her attention again.

"You look…shway…in this shirt. Decide to bring it out of the closet?" His blue eyes were sparkling. The blue stage lights were strange, yet intriguing, on his face.

Chelsea smiled at him. "Yep. I figured you were right."

"Of course I am," he said, happily. Then, his face became slightly worried. "So, er…did you get my email the other day?"

Chelsea cleared her throat roughly and looked down as if she had dropped something. "Dang it," she muttered, stooping.

"What is it?" Terry asked, alert. "I'll help you find it." He was on his knees immediately.

"Oh it's nothing, just my…forget about it." Chelsea said, grabbing Terry's arm to pull him back up.

He was more than glad to drop it when he felt her hand on his arm. He straightened slowly and looked into her face, caught off guard and very serious.

Chelsea cleared her throat again. "Maybe we better see if we can snap Max out of her coma?" She suggested weakly.

"No, I say we leave her there," Terry said, his voice deep.

Chelsea felt herself shaking a little bit. She dropped her hand, a little late, she realized, and as she turned back to the music, she couldn't help thinking of how they had laughed and talked over sandwiches on their first date. Why couldn't she let it be like that? Chelsea couldn't really hear the music, because there was some kind of buzzing in her ears…


	7. Final Push

(Hey guys! More songs you have to listen to as you read...you'll see. And don't forget to review!)

* * *

(Begin listening to "Butterflyz" by Alicia Keys.)

The night of the concert wore on. Chelsea was torn and uncomfortable next to Terry, and virtually abandoned by Max who was staring at a band member as if hypnotized. She was mad that Terry had shown up (to her) uninvited, and mad that she was also glad that he had.

One song in to the band's lineup that they had come to see (Max had snapped out of it once the previous band was finished) Terry disappeared for a moment. Chelsea took that opportunity to curve toward her friend.

"Maxine. I have never seen you look at ANYBODY that way. Are you alright?" The Black Diamond's music was quite loud, and Max was not above using that as an excuse to not answer Chelsea.

Terry was back, and tapping Chelsea on the shoulder, before Chelsea could push the issue with her friend. Chelsea turned to him, gritting her teeth. She swatted his hand off her shoulder with the hand adorned with her butterfly ring. He was taken aback, but he continued with what he was about to say.

"Uh…I gotta' run. But uhhh maybe you'd like to go see the Black Diamond with me next week? They are playing someplace much nicer –"

Chelsea cut him off. "Are they playing at _night time_?"

"Uh…yes," Terry responded, still surprised.

"Terry McGinnis, why would I want to go anywhere with you at _night time_? You'll just end up leaving me there anyway."

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down. He took an uncertain step back. "Oh, um, I guess that makes sense."

Heaving a humongous sigh of frustration, Chelsea turned back to the band. A few minutes later, she cast a little glance to where Terry had been, and he was gone.

* * *

Laying curled up on her bed the next day, Chelsea listened to the pouring rain and thought. Her mind moved over her memories of Terry like the water of a spring flows over its rocks. Repeatedly, closely, and without reason. Dana had called her for once, to ask for another dress. Chelsea had let it go to voicemail. She wanted to stay in bed forever. Chelsea was starting to worry herself.

Thankfully, her dad wasn't home, so when she had to go downstairs to grab some food, she hadn't had to see him. Unfortunately, because he wasn't home, there wasn't anyone to open the door downstairs when there was persistent knocking. She was going to ignore it, but it never stopped. Finally, furious that her artistic lethargy was being interrupted, she threw off her covers and stormed downstairs in her PJs and greasy hair. But whoever it was, they deserve what she was about to dish out to them.

She whipped open the door to see a drenched Terry on her doorstep. Her eyes narrowed even further.

"What. Do you. Want?"

Terry blinked quickly. Despite her chilliness the previous evening, Terry had not been prepared for so complete a refusal.

Chelsea was only further irked at his denseness.

There was a long moment of silence, but then Terry remembered that she had asked a question.

"Well, to see you. So maybe a date at night might not work out, but we could go out during the day…if you want?" he added, asking the question penetratingly, determined to get the answer from his email.

"_Out_?" Chelsea asked, skeptical, disgusted, and hard.

"Well," Terry grinned sheepishly and a little impishly, "Maybe not _out_, in this. Maybe _in_, today. If you're free."

(Start listening to "Another Rainy Day" by Corinne Bailey Rae.)

"Oh, I'm free. Now. That you've interrupted me," Chelsea grumbled without attempting to make it quiet. She stepped back and allowed him in. He stood there dripping and then let out a loud sneeze.

"Oh Terry, you are such an idiot," Chelsea couldn't help giggling.

He wrapped his arms around himself and grinned at her, glad to see her warming up. "Come on, I'll get a blanket for you." Chelsea flicked on the fireplace and ran to change into shorts so that she wouldn't burn up with a fire going in the middle of summer. While she changed, Terry picked out an old movie and surprised Chelsea with it when she came down.

"Look, I even made popcorn. So now you can't refuse."

"So true. Damn you Terry," Chelsea grabbed a handful of popcorn and stuffed it into her mouth.

They went to sit on the couch. She kept laughing as the wet circle on the couch got larger and larger and she had to keep scooting further and further away. But Terry was immersed in the movie, quoting lines and playfully taking it very seriously.

After that, Terry shed the now sopping wet blanket and stretched out on the floor in his damp clothes. Chelsea grabbed her old school PSP and showed Terry her high scores…which he proceeded to beat. Unable to resist the competition, Chelsea opened up a clothes matching game. She creamed him at that, of course. She ended up laughing until she nearly peed herself watching Terry trying not to fail at that game.

It surprised them both when it got dark enough to need to turn lights on. The darkness came on so slowly on the gray day. Feeling…embarrassed…that Terry had tricked her into spending time with him, Chelsea jumped up and claimed she had to meet Dana. Terry left good-naturedly and gave her an awkward one-armed, musty hug on his way out. Chelsea grabbed a pair of rugged jeans and a hoodie top to lend to Dana and drove over.

But Dana wasn't home, of course, so she ended up leaving the clothes on Dana's bed and heading back home to eat at an empty kitchen table in the dim, empty house.


	8. New Relationship

It rained the next day again, and at first, Chelsea tried to go for a walk around her subdivision under cover of an umbrella, but it was too wet and cold for her to stay out for long. She paced around her house trying not to think of how much this summer was turning out to suck. It was then, staring out the window at the river of water that used to be her driveway, that she had a sudden and unaccountable change of heart. Or maybe she just finally gave in to what had been her heart's desire for some time.

She flipped open her phone – vacant from any messages from Dana – and called Terry. She nervously dragged her meticulously painted toenails along a swirl in the marble floor in the foyer as she waited for him to pick up.

"Hey!" Terry called in his friendly, enthusiastic way.

"Hi," Chelsea said, unable to help but smile in response to being greeted like that.

"What's up – would you like to come over?"

She smiled wider, and said, with some embarrassment, "Well, actually, I was calling to see if I could."

"Oh – okay," Terry consented, awkwardly. "Wait, you're not breaking up with me, are you?" He kidded.

Chelsea laughed evilly and hung up the phone. She ran to change out of her slightly damp jeans and into a knee-length, poofy cotton skirt and t-shirt. Then she stepped into her navy blue galoshes and went out the door, grabbing the keys to one of her dad's less prominent rides.

As she drove, she checked her hair in the mirror and decided to work with it – a messy, wet, allover disheveled look. Some stuck straight up, some hung on her eyes…like Terry's. She giggled and drove faster.

When she arrived in front of the McGinnis home, she pulled the collar of her yellow raincoat closer to her face before braving the pouring rain. Terry was waiting for her on the porch, the door already open. Chelsea ran past him into the house but stopped dead on the doormat inside, not wanting to drip on Mrs. McGinnis' carpet. Terry, not seeing her stop, smacked into her from behind.

"Oops, sorry," he muttered, and stepped around her. "Ew, you got me all wet," he complained, whiping at the front of his black hoodie. Chelsea slid out of her dripping coat and shook it on him. He snatched it and hung it up on a row of hooks on the wall.

"You dry enough?" He checked.

"Yep," she responded, pulling off her rain boots.

"Cool shirt," Terry commented. It was a white tee with a red robot on it shooting lasers at a city.

"Thanks," she smiled. "Nice…pants. You get those off a hobo?"

Terry's jeans were shredded with lots of big holes in the front from just above the knee down. He grinned. "HEY, these were all the rage 20 years ago. And since everything comes back into style, I'm ahead of my time."

"Good reasoning. No, they're shway."

"Thanks," he said, a little more seriously, staring her in the face.

She clasped one of her wrists and looked at the ground. "You gonna' let me in?"

"Sure, it's just me and my little brother home today."

"Little my ass," Matt's voice snarked from around the corner.

Terry rolled his eyes and mouthed "moody" to Chelsea. She covered her mouth with her hand and giggled.

When Matt walked into the foyer, Terry quickly turned and pretended to be hanging her raincoat up, so that Matt wouldn't see that they were laughing at him. Chelsea wasn't so fast, and just turned her face away. Matt, his hands stuffed into his low-slung pants, raised an eyebrow at them and glowered as he walked through into the next room.

Terry widened his eyes at Chelsea as if to say, "See what I have to live with?" Chelsea giggled again.

"So, what do you wanna' do?" Terry asked, sliding his hands into his hoodie pocket.

"Um, whatever," Chelsea shrugged, smiling.

"Well, I'd give you a tour…but there's not much to see," Terry said.

"Oh okay," she replied agreeably.

"We could play…cards?" Terry suggested, his eyes roaming about the small room as if that would help him.

Chelsea laughed. "That sounds…boring."

"Vid games?"

"God no! I don't even need to be here, you have your little brother for that."

They heard a scoff from the other room. Terry flushed. "You're right, sorry. 'Don't make a girl sit through video games.' Rule number one. Got it."

Chelsea shook her head forgivingly. "Well, you don't have to give me a full tour, but why don't you at least…show me the next room. I mean, I've never made it past this mat." She looked down at her feet on the welcome mat, and the tiled floor of the tiny foyer.

"Oh, yeah, okay," Terry agreed, and with a cheesy flourish of his hand, showed her into the living room to the right, ignoring the stairs leading to the upper level. Chelsea hopped down the short step into the living room. This was also small, maybe three times the size of the foyer, and everything the color of beige. A sturdy pottery vase of artificial flowers was tucked safely away in the corner, but the dominant theme in the room was black cords and video game equipment.

Chelsea didn't comment that this seemed – not quite like a bachelor pad – but pretty close to it. There were touches of order and cleanliness (i.e. no rotting pizza) that denoted a woman's presence, but the lack of beauty indicated that said woman was a tired one. This was a far cry from Chelsea's home. The immaculate marble mansion that she lived in was a little void of a woman's touch as well, in its simplicity, but it did not lack beauty. Despite her politeness, she couldn't keep her eyes from roaming uncomfortably over the sterile disarray.

"Whaddya' think?" Terry asked, openly.

"Um…it's…cozy!" She turned a dazzling smile on him.

He grinned. "Well, would you like to sit?"

"Sure, thanks!" Terry pushed some gaming controllers off a spot of the couch for her, and then he sat down in an oversized arm chair. It looked old and a little lop-sided. She wondered why they hadn't thrown it out.

Terry leaned back in the chair and put his socked feet up on the foot rest. The chair crackled and popped as it moved. One of Terry's socks had a big hole in the bottom. Chelsea watched this with wide eyes, a little distracted from her reason for coming here and even from her feelings. Sure, she was used to not everyone she went to school with being in the same economic class as her, but she was rarely this exposed to it.

Chelsea thought about saying "should we go sock shopping?" but then wondered if that would be rude. Maybe he didn't have money for socks. But didn't Bruce pay him a lot? Well, that's what Terry had said. Maybe "a lot" for the McGinnises wasn't what Chelsea thought "a lot" meant.

"What's wrong, you look deep in thought," Terry observed in a friendly manner.

"Oh, nothing," Chelsea smiled, rearranging her face. Maybe Dana or definitely Blade would have blurted out what they were thinking. Though Chelsea was honest, she wasn't braindead.

Terry accepted what she said with a nod. Then he sat upright suddenly, making the arm chair snap back to its original position with an alarming noise. Chelsea jumped, but her jump was mostly concealed due to the extreme squishiness of the couch she sat on. Terry still noted it, though. "Oops, sorry, didn't mean to frighten you. Just thought I could show you our game cupboard."

"Oh – okay," Chelsea agreed, rising. Terry went around the back of the room, up a step, and into a kitchen/dining area. The underside of the stairs rose overheard, making a narrow passageway into the room. He stopped in this area and opened a door in the wall to a very narrow shelving area. Tons of battered games were crammed in piles on the shelves. If a box didn't fit into a stack, it was shoved in diagonally. Chelsea's eyes widened. "Quite the…smorgous board," she commented.

Terry laughed. "Have a look." He was standing with his back to the closet door, and when Chelsea stepped in to peer in and read the labels, they were quite close. Even the stairs dipped low over their heads, almost touching Terry's hair.

Terry, already knowing the games they had, looked at Chelsea. His lips parted and his breath brushed against her short blonde hair, stirring it. Chelsea felt herself under scrutiny, and tried to concentrate on the games. Matt, who had been snacking in the kitchen, walked up behind them and almost bumped into Chelsea before he saw that they were there. "Woah…" he said in surprise. Then, regaining his snarky humour, he grumbled, "Why don't you find someplace else to make out?"

Chelsea turned in surprise and found herself uncomfortably close to Terry's young teenage brother.

"Maatt!" Terry growled and swiped at Matt's head.

"Don't worry about me, I'll just go the other way. Wouldn't want to interrupt," and he turned and stalked off.

"Sorry about that!" Terry said in exasperation, his eyes avoiding hers in his embarrassment.

"No, it's um, okay," Chelsea said brightly, looking at the ground.

Matt had gone around the other way through the foyer and was now in the living room, playing vid games.

"Want to, um, sit at the kitchen table?" Terry offered.

"Sure," Chelsea said eagerly in relief.

He took her to a four-seating square wooden table and pulled out a matching wooden chair for her before he sat himself at the adjacent corner. She sat and momentarily cast her eyes around the kitchen. It, too, was plain, and a little less clean than the living room. "Ugh, Matt always leaves his dishes for Mom to clean up. He's such a little twip," Terry said unforgivingly and rose to first put the remnants of sandwich stuff back in the fridge, and then wash the pile of dishes by the sink.

Chelsea sat awkwardly at the table as he did so, watching his back. He had pushed up the sleeves of his hoodie and his strong, veined forearms were exposed. His sturdy frame rocked slightly as he moved a dishbrush around on a plate. To keep from checking him out too much, she looked again around the kitchen. There was a small ducky border around the ceiling, and it peeled slightly in the corner over the stove.

She drummed her sunshine yellow fingernails against the table top and watched them. Suddenly, Terry was seated beside her again. "Soo," he offered, "How's life?"

"Boring," she said honestly, smiling up into his handsome face.

"Ah. So you came crawling back to me, did you?" His blue eyes twinkled at his own joke.

She blushed and looked away. Now was a good time to explain to him that she was willing to date him…

"So how is your clothes designing going?" Terry interrupted her revelation.

"Uh – good. How's working for Mr. Wayne going?" She countered, knowing that was the subject to distract him from questioning her.

"Oh." He leaned back, becoming more serious. "Good. It's fine."

"Terry, um, would you like to date me?" Chelsea forced herself to keep her eyes on his face.

His face broke out in glowing smile. He shrugged. "Well, sure, you know," he teased.

Chelsea smiled back, tentatively. Spying a large picture on a cabinet on the opposite wall, she quickly got up and went to look at it, to relieve the awkwardness. It was a picture of the McGinnis family – with Mr. McGinnis. Matt looked quite young, and had a big smile on his face instead of the scowl he always wore now. Terry was much skinnier, and a lot dorkier. Chelsea vaguely remembered Terry looking like this a long time ago. Mrs. McGinnis looked beautiful. Her auburn hair was down and swirled around her, and her arms were around her husband's waist and Terry's shoulders. Mr. McGinnis, with dark hair, sharp, ice blue eyes, and a broad-shoulder build, smiled out from the picture, too, with a hand on Matt's shoulder, his other in his pocket. They were a happy family.

"You like it?" Terry asked from right behind her.

Chelsea jumped guiltily, taken off guard by his stealth. "You look so much like him," she said, softly.

Terry smiled. "Even without the moustache?"

Chelsea nodded.

"Well, thanks." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I was thinking of growing one, actually."

Chelsea laughed, heartily. "No, no, no, don't."

"Why not?" He pressed.

"You look…good…as it is."

"Oh, really?" He asked slyly. "You like the way your…boyfriend…looks, do you?"

Chelsea smiled and looked up into his eyes shyly. "Yeah, I guess I do."

"What else do you like about your boyfriend besides his good looks?"

"Oh, shutup," she said, whacking his arm.

"Fine," he said, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. "Then I'm not going to tell _you_ what I like about you."

Chelsea glared at him. "You are awful, Terry McGinnis."

"I know," he shrugged, and smiled slyly at her from the corner of his eyes. "So." He popped his elbows out on the counter. "What would you like to do on our first _official _day of dating?" He asked with a teasing smile.

"Oh, I don't know. Grocery shop?" Chelsea suggested nonchalantly.

"What?" He looked confused.

Chelsea laughed. "Just kidding. I don't know."

"How about…go cart riding?"

"Um…sure…sounds fun," Chelsea replied, raising an eyebrow.

"K, let's go!" He grabbed his arm and practically dragged her to the door. "I have been DYING to go. But it would be lame to go by yourself, so…"

"Oh I'm glad I can be of use!" Chelsea exclaimed with a laugh.

Terry drove her with speed and safety to a parking lot in Gotham that was set up as a go cart track. Terry didn't tire for hours of waiting for short turns in line and then even shorter rips around the track. At first Terry smoked her, but soon Chelsea was able to catch up with him. It was a pretty even competition, but Terry didn't seem bothered by it. Terry drove her home in the evening and walked her to the door. They waved goodbye to each other like kindergarten sweethearts and said they'd see each other tomorrow.


	9. The Beach

Terry, unable to wait very long, had come over to Chelsea's very early the next morning. She was still asleep (she had not been able to get to sleep easily the night before). After receiving this news from the housekeeper, he sent her a text message that said this:

"I'll be waiting for you on the beach."

He walked down to the beach right next to the Cunningham's house. He sat down in the same rowboat where Chelsea and Dana had begun all of this. He straightened his khacki pants and leaned back with a lifejacket for a pillow. His back was to the water so he could see when she approached. Besides, he was used to great sights. He quickly fell asleep as the sun rose behind him, glowing on the water.

When Chelsea got the text message, it had woken her up. Despite how groggy she was, she had eagerly gotten up, thrown on a bathing suit, and headed to the beach.

Terry's eyes slid open when he heard a house door close quietly. Exhausted and dazed, he saw a form moving towards him. She wore a glittering, sand-colored two-piece bathing suit. He blinked to clear his eyes. The sun shown so bright on her, he couldn't make out her face until she was close. Her blonde hair, pulled back into a very messy tiny ponytail, was full of light. She smiled warmly, stopping at the rowboat.

"Hey, Terry," she greeted, softly.

"Goodmorning - hey," he said, sitting up quickly. He brushed at the back of his squished, long black hair. He yawned and stretched, looking away from her. "Gorgeous day, isn't it?" He asked, swinging around to look at the sky, now up, but just feet above the water.

"Did you bring a bathsuit? I...um...I thought that's what you meant," Chelsea said, self-conscience that she had shown up in a bathing suit.

Terry hopped up. "No, I hadn't thought of it...wish I had," he added, glancing at her.

Chelsea fidgeted. "I could grab a swimsuit of my dad's," she offered.

"Oh, no," he said, blushing. "I haven't even...I mean, I don't want to borrow something of your dads - without - without asking."

"Oh, alright," she said. She brushed her bangs away from her eyes, a silver link bracelet glittering on her wrist.

"It's okay, you go in," he suggested.

"No, that's alright," she laughed, and tossed a fluffy white towel that had been slung in the crook of her opposite arm to the ground.

"It's okay, I'll go in," Terry offered.

"In what? Then all your clothes will be wet!" She laughed.

"Well I won't go in in _all_ my clothes," he explained, rakishly.

"Oh." She said, startled. Terry pulled off his long sleeve maroon shirt over his head. Satisfied that's what he meant, Chelsea turned and started walking toward the water.

She was shocked, then, to see Terry streak by in his underwear and cannonball into the water with surprising speed and power. That made Chelsea pause mid-stride, but then she continued out to the water, giggled as Terry's head came back up.

"It's cold!" He cried. Chelsea laughed outright, easing her way into the water slowly and leisurely. Terry was content to bob there in the water, watching as she made her way in. Once in, they splashed around a bit, but got out quickly as Terry was freezing.

"You can use my towel, you need it more than I do," Chelsea laughed while they were still neck-deep in the water, a good four feet apart. She promised to turn her back to him and not peek as he got out of the water. He made a run for it and then called that she was in the clear. She walked toward the beach next, the water sliding off of her like molten gold in the light. She studied his surprisingly ripped for high school back as she approached the shore. He was crazy good looking, that was for sure.

White towel wrapped around his waist, he turned to face her. Chelsea sat, and they lay back on the sand.

Terry stepped into the rowboat and resumed his earlier seat, though he stayed upright, watching her.

"You did all that so that I wouldn't feel awkward for wearing a bathing suit, didn't you?" Chelsea ferreted perceptively.

Terry shrugged and waved his broad-palmed hand toward the bench opposite him inside the rowboat. "Care to sit?"

"Sure," she replied, getting up, brushing off, and sitting down. She continued to brush her back off as she sat there.

"A little sandy?" Terry asked.

"Very."

Terry popped his feet up next to her on the edge of the boat and leaned back slightly onto the opposite edge. "MMm, I love the summer."

Chelsea looked over at him. "Me, too," though she hadn't loved it until just recently. It had been pretty boring.

"So how's the clothes designing going?"

"Good," she smiled.

"When did you start getting into that?" Terry asked.

"Into what?"

"Clothes...designing."

"Oh I don't know...I just picked it up a few years ago. I was getting into fashion and stuff. I wanted to experiment and make my own stuff, I figured I'd work on it for a while before I let anybody in on it. Get really good. Then, like, bust it out at the end of highschool or something. Become an insanely famous designer," she mocked herself jokingly, waving her hands and rolling her eyes.

"Well. You _are_ really good," Terry pointed out, serious though he smiled along with her.

"You should just, you know, start wearing your own designs, and when people ask where you got them, just say 'oh, you know, _me_," he said, impersonating a snobbish girl.

Chelsea laughed. "I _have_ been wearing them, a little bit, but that's because it's summer. Don't think I'm going to keep wearing them once school starts up again."

"Well, I'm not going to keep dating you unless you do," he said, turning up his nose at her.

She gasped and looked around the boat. "Just wait until I find something to throw at you!"

He tossed her a life jacket. "Will this do?"

"No. It's too good for you." She set it behind her.

Terry sat up and placed his chin in his hands, gazing at her.

"So, uh, do you have any plans for the summer?" Chelsea tried to fill in the space by asking.

He abruptly laughed and shifted in his seat. "Nooo, no no no. Just the usual. It keeps me busy enough."

"Oh, okay," Chelsea replied, looking down. She felt again that edge of a secret there, a dark void that she was going be blocked from indefinitely.

Terry leaned forward until he caught her eyes. "I plan to spend this summer seeing _you_ a lot," he said, smiling gently.

She smiled back and cleared her throat to lighten the atmosphere, but Terry's hand gently covered hers on her knee. She froze, while at the same time her blood raced. Terry continued to look at her, confidently, reassuringly.

Chelsea smiled back at him, wider, and turned her hand over to interlace her fingers with him. They sat there, staring at their intertwined hands, breathing softly. Finally, Chelsea looked up, her blue eyes searching out his, under their angled fringe of black hair. They shared a breathless smile. Terry leaned in more to place his other hand on top of hers.

"I like this boat," he said, relaxed.

Chelsea nodded. "It gets better and better."


End file.
